Painting My Own World
by Canadian.Impasta
Summary: Matthew is a depressed teen who is never noticed by anyone. He is a passionate artist who uses painting as an outlet for his troubles. Never had he thought that his paintings would get him noticed by a certain red-eyed student at his school. Crappy summaries suck. Rated T for violence and cussing.
1. The Painting

**Hello~! What's up? This is a new fanfiction that I thought of in the middle of math class when I was staring at an air freshener… XP I know, how the heck did I think of fanfiction while staring at an air freshener? Answer: I don't really know, I just did. Anyways, here is my new fanfiction (even though I need to finish the others…) Painting My Own World.**

**_***WARNING FIRST CHAPTER REALLY SUCKS IT GETS BETTER LATER ON I PROMISE***_**

Light from the sunset pours in through the window of the school art supply room. Matthew Williams sits in this room alone watching the sun set with blank eyes; void of emotion. He tore his gaze away from the setting sun to look at the white canvas in front of him waiting to be painted and he picked up a small paintbrush and held it to the canvas waving it back and forth thinking of what to paint. He had painted many paintings ever since his childhood.

Matthew was never noticed by others and the usually forgot about him frequently, even his parents did. The only time people ever notice him is to bully him or humiliate him. His twin brother, Alfred, was the louder of the two and he got more attention since he had 'more potential'. Alfred was also the cause of most of his bullying problem as well. Alfred played a lot of pranks on others and they would usually look for revenge. Then, they would see Matthew and take it out on him thinking that he was Alfred.

How they couldn't tell the two apart, he didn't know. Alfred had more muscle and was built for rough games like football. He wore clothes that showed off his muscles and was flirtatious from time to time. Matthew had more of a feminine figure and was small compared to others his age and wore loose fitting clotting to cover up his figure. Basically, Matthew was girly and Alfred was the jock. Alfred would have football practice after school and Matthew was always stuck waiting for him after school. This was usually the time bullies would strike and corner him.

He was walking around school one day after another one of his beatings when he had wandered into the art room. When he had first stepped into the room, he was captured by the beauty of it all. The room was not messy nor to clean, but just the right way as to give it a comforting look. Unfinished canvases laid in a corner begging to be finished and paint brushes were in cups everywhere. One wall was completely covered in different bottles of paint and on the opposite wall was a big window to give the room lighting.

It was a wondrous sight to him at least, since his life was very grey and devoid of color or happiness. He had wandered to the walls and picked out paint, a canvas, and a brush and he had made his first painting. The painting of course was unprofessional, but hey, it was his first time painting. Ever since then, he had made at least one painting every week and improved his skills until he soon was a master of the arts. It was just a way for him to let out his emotions; an outlet.

Matthew was very self-conscious of his work however and had skillfully hidden them. There was a hidden trapdoor in the wall he had found while looking for more canvases and he had just stored them all there for now until he found a new home for them.

Each would reflect how he saw the world that week. For instance, if someone had noticed him or apologized to him for something, he would draw something bright and calming giving a sense of freedom. But, if he had gotten bullied that week, he would draw something more dark and depressing giving the onlooker a sense of entrapment.

Each painting was unique and held a fond or not so fond memory. They sort of kept a timeline of his life over the couple of years that he has been painting.

Matthew gave a depressed smile while thinking of his past. Today had been a horrible day for him. He was bullied more than usual and the teachers had forgotten him again.

The bully was Carlos and he had cornered Matthew in the bathroom. He did what he always did and mistook him for Alfred. He raced towards Matthew and punched him in the gut repeatedly and even got a couple of hits in the head.

"That's what you get for messing with me", he said. He had spat on Matthew and left him curled up on the floor holding his stomach crying. When the pain had reduced to a dull throb, he stood up slowly and limped to his next class.

An idea for his painting had finally popped into his head after hours of thinking. Putting down the small paintbrush, he picked up a thick, wide one to cover the canvas in a pale grey. He picked back up the smaller brush and poured an extremely light grey paint on a pallet and started to draw snow with little footprints in it. He then started to draw a polar bear cub.

He finally leaned away from the painting, proud of the artwork in front of him. The painting showed a polar bear cub stuck in the middle of a snow storm calling out to who ever could hear it. The polar bear was leaving behind little footprints in the snow and it's colors seemed to blend into the storm and was blurred. It looked as though it was becoming one with the storm itself. Putting down the brush, he picked up a black colored pencil and signed his name on their like he did with all his paintings.

Wearily, he looked out the window to see that it was nighttime already and Alfred's football practice had long ended. He glanced up at the clock above the window and saw it was already eight O' clock.

"Maple!" Matthew jumped off the stool and grabbed his backpack near the door. Racing around the room, he grabbed colored and regular pencils off the counters to take home and practice with. He grabbed his school laptop leaning against the stool and he zoomed out the door to catch up with Alfred who had probably already left him behind and forgot about him.

Matthew ran down the hallway and opened the door with a big slam. The doors were really heavy to Matthew and he had a hard time opening them. After he had finally pushed the door open enough to where he could slip out, he looked over at the bus lane where they usually met up to see if he was waiting there.

Not surprisingly, he wasn't.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Matthew put his hands in his hoodie pockets and walked over to the sidewalk. When he got home, he was going to have a little talk with Al for leaving him behind like this.

Little did he know, he was leaving something else behind as well. In the middle of the art room stood his painting that glowed in the moonlight waiting for someone to find it.


	2. Violet Eyes

**Hello~! Here is the second chapter of Painting My Own World. I hope that I didn't confuse anyone last chapter and if I did, please private message me and tell me what I did wrong.**

**This chapter is in the POV of Gilbert BTW.**

**I don't own Hetalia sadly.**

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><p>Yellow canaries flew around my head chirping in joy as I leaned against a young maple tree that sat on top a small hill. The sun was shining down on a field of wheat stalks making it look like a plain of gold.<p>

A small breeze blew through my hair and I sighed in content. It was very stressful for me lately back at home. My unawesome bruder was always admired by everyone else and got good grades and because of that no one really knew me for me. They alway thought of me as "Ludwig's brother" not Gilbert. Seriously, how could they not know the awesome me!?

Pushing the unawesome depressing thoughts out of my mind, I took in a deep breath. The smell of bark and dirt filled my nose and I opened my eyes a crack to look at my beautiful surroundings.

Off in the distance were snow-topped mountains. It would be awesome to go there snowboarding sometime. I looked up toward the sky and watched as the clouds rolled by. The reddish-orange maple leaves shined in the light and peeked through the gaps of them.

A particularly small canary landed on my shoulder and nuzzled my neck. I recognized him as my pet , Gilbird, and patted his head with my finger. He let out a small chirp and fell asleep on my shoulder. I let out a little chuckle and sat on the ground to take a small nap myself.

However, as soon as I hit the ground, the sunshine disappeared. The smell of bark and soil was replaced with the scent of rain and the crops of wheat grass started to decay and fall to the ground. I stood up abruptly wonder what the hell was going on and Gilbird let out a cheep of confusion.

A thick fog rolled in and swept through the dead wheat stalks and the mountains in the distance were no longer visible. The once beautiful tree behind me had lost all it's leaves and fungi had started to grow all over it. I stepped away from it a little scared now.

"Okay... Seriously, what the fuck is going on?", I asked myself. Raindrops hit the top of my head and soon the pitter patter sound of rain filled the air. Suddenly, a clap of thunder rang through the air and scared Gilbird causing him to fly way. I reached up trying to catch him and bring him back since I didn't want to be stuck in this confusion alone, but he slipped through my fingers leaving me there by myself.

With nothing else to do or anywhere to go, I started walking in no particular direction looking for a sign or something. After a while of walking I saw another person in the distance. I stopped not knowing if they were a friend or foe until I saw that they were limping.

Seeing as that person needed my awesome help, I ran over to aid them. I came up from behind them and put the guy's (or at least I think it was a guy's...) arm around my shoulders. The man's body went limp and his breaths came out ragged and uneven.

The kid was wearing a red, baggy hoodie with a white maple leaf on the front and baggy jeans that just barely hung on his hips. He was as thin as a toothpick -seriously, did he never eat?!- and had honey blond hair that was matted and messy with one rebellious curl sticking out in the front.

However, what concerned me were the cuts and bruises that were all over him. I couldn't see his full face because it was hidden by his bangs, but his cheeks and rest of his face that were visible were covered in them.

His body was taken over by a fit of ragged coughs and I patted his back. I asked him if he was okay as more thunder rang in the distance. He slowly raised his head and I looked into his eyes only to be captivated by the beautiful shade of...

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Violet!", I yelled as I flailed in my bed. I sat up sleepily looking over to the clock on my bedside that read 7:00.

"Shit! I have to get ready for school!" I swung my legs over the side of my bed and opened my closet. I picked out a black t-shirt that read "I'M AWESOME!" and a pair of black jeans with silver chains hanging out of the pockets connecting to the back pocket and did a little dance to get them on my legs.

I looked at myself in the mirror and nodded in approval. Gilbird chirped behind me asking to be let out of his cage.

"Sorry 'bout that buddy. My dream last night had you in it! There was also this weird guy in it who was all beat up and shit who had these beautiful violet eyes..." I rambled on about my dream as I let Gilbird out of his cage and let him fly up to the top of my head. He nestled in my hair making in messier than it usually was and I didn't really mind; it was messy all the time anyways.

I looked at the clock again and saw that all my rambling had cost ten minutes of my precious time to get ready.

"Crap!" I ran into the bathroom and brushed my teeth and all the other unawesome shit I needed to do in the mornings. I glanced out the window and saw that it had rained last night like in my dream.

"What a weird coincidence..."

I ran down the stairs like a buffalo stampede and sprinted to the kitchen; I needed to get my awesome grub on!

I grabbed bowl and poured myself a bowl of Cheerios and put about 3 cups of sugar in it along with a bit of legit German beer in it. I sat down on the couch and watching a bit of Nickelodeon and yelling at Dora.

"Seriously you Blödmann! How can you not see the fucking star?! IT'S RIGHT THERE BY YOUR HEAD!"

"Bruder, please refrain from your yelling. It's giving me a headache." My unawesome bruder sat at the table reading a thick book holding his head in his hand. I stuck out my tongue at him and turned off the TV.

I grabbed my backpack and yelled back at him that I was leaving early. I had done poorly on an art assignment and needed to make it up by painting a new one.

I walked outside and slammed the door shut since it tended not to close all the way and locked it with my house key. Gilbert tweeted in my hair as I took a deep breath of the rain scene around me thinking of the dream last night all the way till I arrived at school.

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><p>The art room door creaked open slowly as I peeked in to make sure that no one was there. Once I saw that the cost was clear, I swung the door open all the way and threw my backpack on the floor. I flicked the light switch on and looked around the room.<p>

The room was dark and kind of dusty since it wasn't really used much. This was the art SUPPLY room, not the actual classroom. It was mostly for the art club after school, but some people like my awesome self had to come in and make up art assignments.

The thing that caught my eye however, was the canvas propped up on an easel. I walked over to it and was captured by the mixture of the colors.

The painting was that of a polar bear cub walking in a snowstorm. The polar bear was made look like an illusion where you question yourself if it was actually there, but the footprints in the snow made it obvious that it was meant to be there. The backdrop was a light grey color so that you could clearly make out the snow and the bear, but the bears expression was absolutely heart breaking.

It looked terrified and like it was about to cry; it even made my awesome-self want to cry! I brushed my fingertips against the painting as though comforting the cub in it. I spotted a tiny signature in the corner of the canvas that was barely visible and I kneeled down and squinted my eyes to read the tiny writing.

"So, the painter's name is Matthew, huh?" I stood back up and looked at the clock that now read 7:50.

"Scheiße. I need to start on that unawesome painting before school starts."

I grabbed a canvas and easel and quickly painted a watercolor canary on a maple tree. It was very poor quality, but it was good enough for a passing grade.

"But not as gorgeous as that polar bear painting though.", said a voice in the back of my head.

The loud, shrill ringing of the bell rang (that totally didn't scare the shit out of me) and I put away my canvas to pick up later when it was time for art. I walked towards the door and glanced back at the painting.

"Maybe this 'Matthew' person will come after school..."

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><p>Matthew POV<p>

The annoying ringing of my alarm clock woke me from my sleep and I threw my pillow at it. I wasn't feeling well since it had started raining when I was walking home. I sat up and ran my hands through my hair letting out a yawn. I blindly looked for my crooked glasses and pushed them on to my face.

I swung my legs over my bed and walked over to my closet putting on the typical red maple leaf hoodie and blue jeans. As I was putting on my shirt, I noticed that I could see and count all my ribs.

"When was the last time I ate anyways?", I asked myself. "I remember eating that apple slice five days ago..." I put the question in the back of my head to deal with later and put the back of my hand to my forehead. It wasn't that bad... I think.

I walked out of my room to the one across the hallway to the door covered in stickers with the American flag. I opened the door to see if a miracle had happened and Alfred was already awake, but of course he wasn't. Letting out an irritated groan, I walked over to his bed and started shaking him.

"A-Alfred, it's time to go to school..." Alfred let out a yawn and sat up tiredly rubbing his eyes.

"Good morning, Alfred."

"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?" Alfred glared daggers at me, but I was used to it. He did this every morning.

"It's me Alfred, your brother Matthew. You know, the maple syrup freak." I made a gesture making it look like I was drinking a bottle of syrup and Alfred's expression turned from confusion to a look of recognition.

"Oh, Mattie! I forgot that, ya know, you were you! How are ya bro? Hey go make me some pancakes instead of the school's shitty food. Or even better, let's go get McDonalds!"

"Alfred, there is no time for pancakes. We have to get to school in 20 minutes, so you need to hurry up."

"Who are you again?"

"I'm Matthew."

"Oh yeah!"

I walked out of the room back to my own and picked up my stuffed polar bear Kumajelly. Or was it Kumajino? I don't know, it just starts with Kuma.

Anyways, I picked him and hugged him to my chest. Kuma was given to me by my mother before she died in a car crash when I was two. My father turned into a drunkard after her death and used to beat me and sometimes Alfred saying that it was our faults that she died. Our neighbors heard our screams one night and Child Protection Services showed up arresting my father and taking Alfred and I to the local orphanage.

Back then, Alfred was really protective of me and didn't let anyone near me. Quite a few people wanted to adopt us, but they never wanted both of us. Then, a couple wanted to adopt us both and we agreed to be adopted by them. They were a kind, heterosexual couple named Sally and Jeremy and life was great for a while until I started turning invisible.

It started out with people just mixing up Alfred and I's names, but then turned into completely forgetting I existed or that I was in the room.

I squeeze Kuma tighter and buried my face into his fur.

"I just wish that someone would notice me and not mistake me for Alfred.", I thought as a tear ran down my face.

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><p>I was walking through the hallways when something that felt like a bull ran into me, knocking me to the ground. I let out a quiet oof when my head hit the lockers and a foot kicked me in the stomach.<p>

"ALFRED JONES!"

I looked up to see the one and only Carlos.

"I'm going to beat your ass for embarrassing me in class you fucker!" Another kick hit my in the stomach and I curled up holding it. My backpack slid across the floor and out of my reach spilling out my papers and textbooks. Carlos picked me up by the hair and pushed me into the locker putting his weight on my chest. After holding me there long enough to make me suffocate a while, he dropped me to the ground and pinned his foot on my ribs.

I let out a small yelp and heard a loud snap.

Carlos walked away and left me at the lockers again for the second time. I sat up and gingerly touched my ribs to see one was sticking out an angle.

The sight made me want to vomit and I covered my mouth to prevent it from happening. The rib didn't she that much with how baggy my hoodie was, but it still made a small bump. I stood up with shaking legs and the world spun and I leaned against the locker for support and shuffled over to my backpack.

I shoved all my stuff in the bag and swung it over my shoulder. I limped towards my art class and walked in through the door.

"Sorry I'm late...", I mumbled practically to myself.

_**Neither the teacher or the students in the class turned their heads of noticed my presence. I walked over to my seat in the second to last row completely oblivious to the red eyes glued to the back of my head a few seats away.**  
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	3. Temporary Blindness

Gilbert POV

I walked into my art classroom slamming my art on the teacher's desk.

"Hello there, Gilbert." The teacher glared at me. This teacher didn't like me since I was always messing around in his class instead of doing work.

I winked at him and stuck out my tongue. "Love you too, Roddy."

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that! Go sit in your seat."

I grumbled complaints under my breath and stubbornly sat down in the last row. I hung my backpack on the chair next to me since no one ever wanted to sit by me, so why not put the chair to use? I kicked my feet up on the table and leaned back ready to take a nap.

The late bell rung and I prepared myself for fifty-five minutes of absolute boredom. I had only signed up for this class because I thought you could just mess around and paint what ever the hell you wanted. Like always, I was wrong and you actually had to learn stuff (verdammit!).

Seven minutes of class had passed so far and I was starting to doze off since Mr. Roddy was just droning on about colored pastels and shit that I was never going to actually use in life, when I heard the door open and looked to see who Roddy was going to chew out when I saw that it was HIM.

It was the guy that was in my dreams with the violet eyes. He looked worse that he did in back in my dream, but he had the same strange curl hanging in front of his face and maple leaf hoodie on along with those captivatingly beautiful eyes. I almost fell out of my chair in shock. I thought that he was just a person in a dream, not someone in real life!

I waited for the teacher to start chewing him out, but he just kept on rambling on about pastels. In fact, no one even looked at him, even as he walked right in front of them. It was like he was invisible to everyone else but me...

He sat a row ahead of me on the opposite side of the room where the window was. The sun that was pouring in showed heavy bags under his eyes and how tired he looked. A pang of pity hit me and my eyes glanced down to his shirt and I saw something was poking in his hoodie that made a small bump in the chest area. My eyes narrowed in curiosity and concern and I saw a dark bruise creeped out at the collar of his hoodie as well. I looked toward his eyes and they gave off the fact that he was in major pain.

"Does anyone know how to blend in pastel colors correctly?", Roderich asked the class scanning the room for hands.

No one raised their hand except for the violet eyed boy, but Roderich scanned right over him. I wanted to stand up and yell at him for being such an unawesome teacher, but I promised old Fritz that I wouldn't get detention this year...

I pushed my anger to the side and tried to focus back on the lesson, but my eyes kept glancing back to the violet eyed boy.

I think at one point our eyes met for a split second, but I'm pretty sure it was just my imagination.

The bell for the end of the hour rang and I got up as fast as I could to try to talk to him, but Roderich called me back to talk to me and I watched him walk out the door.

I spun around to face Roderich and spat out and angry 'what the hell do you want?'.

He gave me an irritated look. "Language, Gilbert. I just noticed that you weren't paying attention to the lesson today and that you were just staring off into space. It isn't like you to do that, you usually just take a nap; not that I approve of that. I was wondering if you were feeling alright."

"Oh. Mein. Gott. Forget about me, are you okay? You're showing consideration to someone besides your girlfriend... Do you need to go to the hospital? Do you have a fever? What's wrong with you?!" I shook Roddy back and forth until his normal scowl came back.

"Now that I know there is nothing wrong with you, get out of my class." I ran out laughing with something nagging the back of my head saying I was forgetting something...

"Oh yeah! Violet eyed boy! Maybe I should go try and find him during lunch. But first, I need to give him a better nickname... How 'bout Birdie! Yeah, he kind of reminds me of a bird... I'm so awesome!" I walked through hallway bathing in my awesome smartness and got ready for the next period by shoving all my shit in my locker and grabbing other shit.

"It's an endless cycle isn't it?", I thought as I grabbed a thick binder and about ten pencils.

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><p>Everything was hazy and unclear as I stumbled through the hallway trying to get to my next class with intense pain in my chest area. I felt like I was burning from the inside out from my fever.<p>

I put the back of my hand to my forehead. "Maybe the fever was worse than I thought..." I adjusted my backpack straps and stumbled into my English class.

I arrived just before the bell rang and sat down in the closest seat to the door. The simplest action of just sitting down made me exhausted and I laid my head on the desk trying to catch my breath. My breaths came in and out ragged and a couple of dry coughs racked my chest and I tried to cover them with my mouth.

Once my coughing fit had died down, I removed my hand to see blood in my palm. The sight of blood disgusted me and I wiped it on my already blood stained shirt underneath my hoodie. I tried to focus on the lesson that the teacher was giving, but all her words went in and out of my ears. It didn't help that I couldn't even SEE the teacher because of my fever. I felt a pencil poke me in the back and I heard someone with a Japanese accent ask me if I was alright.

I turned around to see Kiku Honda with a concerned look on his usually blank face. I nodded with a slightly crooked smile to show him that I was alright, but he had a look of disbelief on his face. Before he could get any more suspicious, I turned back around with a little bit of excitement.

"Someone noticed me! True it wasn't for a good reason... Do really look that bad? I'll have to check myself in a mirror later. But he still noticed me!"

"Yeah, but he'll just forget you like everyone else...", said a voice the the back of my head. A wave of depression and realization washed over me.

"Oh... Yeah..."

The teacher shut the text book that she was reading and walked to the front of the classroom. "Alright class, it seems that we have finished this lesson earlier than expected. I'm going to give you some free time until the bell rings and no fighting or screaming!"

The class erupted into loud conversations and blasting rock music and all the loud noises made my head fell like a hammer was banging the side of it, so I pulled out my sketchbook and a pencil to draw in an attempt to distract myself from the uproar the class was causing.

Once my pencil point connected to the paper, all sound was drowned out. My handmade the pencil dance across the paper, not caring if the drawing was going to be good or bad. The pencil made outlines here and sketches there and not a single detail was over-looked and I shaded it in order for it to look real and alive. I ended it with my usual signature in the corner and pulled the drawing away from my face to see what I had created this time.

A tiny bird was trapped in a beaten cage with all the bars bent and crooked like it had been thrown around and uncared for or like someone had a fit and started beating on it. The bird laid on the bottom of the cage with a bandage on it's arm and a few of it's feathers surrounded it. However, the door of the cage was creaked open a bit and the bird was looking at it with hope in his eyes like it had a chance to escape from it's misery.

I smiled bitterly at the drawing.

"If only I was the same as that little bird. Unfortunately for me though, I have no hope out of my misery."

"That is a beautiful picture Williams-san." The voice startled me out of my daze and the loudness of the room once again pounded my head. Kiku was standing over my desk looking down with his usual blank face, but with a spark of amazement in his eyes. I quickly shoved my sketchbook back into my backpack and the bell gave out a shrill annoying that made my head feel like it was splitting in two.

I held my ears and recoiled at the piercing noise. The classroom started to empty out and Kiku had joined the flood of students trying to get to lunch. I decided to join them and swung my backpack on my shoulders, but as soon as I stood up I was temporarily blind and everything hurt; especially my ribs. I bit back a cry of pain and shook my head to regain my eyesight. I took a shaky step and almost fell flat on my face, but held onto the desk for support.

****"The rest of the day is going to be very problematic, isn't it?", I thought wearily as I limped out the door.**  
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><p><strong>I got the haziness and temporary blindness from when I was really sick one time and I couldn't see anything. It was absolutely terrifying and horrible experience. I seriously thought I had gone blind. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and I'm sorry that it's not as long as the last chapter... :( <strong>

**Reviews are my life support!**


	4. Fallen Maple Leaf

**Hi! I've been abandoned at my school by my mother, so I'm going to start typing this chapter. Earlier, it was raining really hard outside and I went out here with no umbrella just dancing like a dork. A lot of people gave me looks and called me ****weird. **

**I just said that being weird is just a side effect of being awesome.**

**Anyways, enjoy the chapter!**

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><p>Gilbert POV<p>

I kept glancing up at the clock waiting with anticipation until it would ring to signal lunch time.

I bounced my leg up and down with impatience. "Why won't the verdammt bell ring already?!"

After what had seemed like an eternity, the shrill ringing of the bell echoed through the hallways. I stood straight up and picked up my binders and pencils and shot out the door after the other people who made it out before me.

Not even bothering to put my stuff in my locker, I ran towards the lunchroom with full speed just to get a glimpse of Birdie.

"Maybe I can properly introduce myself when I see him!" I swung open the lunchroom doors and screamed "Your royal awesomeness has arrived!". No one even glanced my way since they were all used to me doing it by now; not the even the teachers cared anymore.

I spotted my friends Antonio and Francis at our awesome table in the back and swaggered over towards them.

"Your royal awesomeness has arrived! Bow down, kiss my feet, and worship me!" Francis rolled his eyes and Antonio gave me an enthusiastic wave and turned back to each other and continued their conversation.

"I don't know why my little Lovi would hit me like that! All I said is that his face was as red as a tomato and then he hit me calling me tomato bastard!"

"Ya know Antonio, maybe he just doesn't like being called a tomato. Or, ya know, like you in general?", I said rolling my eyes.

"I know that's not true.", Antonio crossed his arms. "Underneath all that mean exterior is a nice Lovi and I know that Lovi loves me just how I love him."

It was always obvious that Antonio loved Lovino since the first time they had met. Even though their meeting involved a prank, whipped cream, and the boys locker room (long story). We could tell that Lovino loved Antonio back, but he didn't like showing affection. It was like a jacked up Romeo and Juliet except Juliet was a cranky ass bitch who punched Romeo when ever she got the chance.

I laughed at my joke and turned around in my chair to scan the lunchroom for a person wearing a red, baggy hoodie.

"It seems that our little Prussian is off in lala land today. What has you so distracted, hmm?", Francis asked me with a perverted look on his face.

"Mein Gott Francis! Do you have to turn everything into something dirty? I'm just looking for a certain person that I want to talk to."

Antonio gasped. "You're not going to fight them, are you?! You promised your papá that you wouldn't get detention this year!"

I rolled my eyes again. "No Antonio, I'm not going to pick a fight with them. I'm just going to talk to them and..."

"Wait, why do I want to talk to the kid anyways?"

"... And, umm... See if their okay... Yea! That's what I'm going to do."

Francis just face palmed himself and sighed. "You have no idea why you want to talk to them, do you? Whatever, tell us what he looks like though, we might know him or can help you look for him.

I nodded my head in agreement. "Yea, I guess so... He is wearing a baggy, red hoodie with a white maple leaf on the front and wears oval glasses and his hair is a honey blonde color with a strange curly hair sticking out the front of his face. He also wears baggy blue jeans that barely fit him and he's as thin as a toothpick with a very feminine figure. The part about him that stand out the most though is his light, violet eyes that look like amethysts. Do you know a guy like that?"

Francis tapped his chin in thought and hummed to himself Antonio just sat with a ditzy look on his face.

"Hmm... The eyes and hair sound like my cousin, but I haven't seen him since I was six years old or somewhere around there. But I don't think that it's him because we moved away from him ten years ago. Mon Dieu, what was his name? I can't for the life of me remember..."

"Pretty sure that this guy isn't your cousin Francis. He doesn't seem like the kind of person who would molest others, let along talk to them." I rolled my eyes.

"Non, he was not like that. In fact, he was always very shy when he was around people. But I do remember him having the sweetest smile that could brighten anyone's day!" Francis gushed and I wrinkled my nose and stood up.

"Whatever, Francis, you can go ahead and keep gushing over your cousin, but I'm going to go find Birdie."

"Who's Birdie?", Antonio asked as I walked a name.

"I-It's like a little nickname I made up for him... I think it suits him." "Why did the cafeteria get so hot all of a sudden?"

"Whatever, bye!" I waved and took off running out of the cafeteria.

* * *

><p>Francis POV<p>

Watched in amusement as Gilbert's face exploded with a dark red blush. His pale white skin made it look more visible and I chuckled in my head.

Gilbert ran out of the cafeteria and as soon as the doors slammed close, I let out a laugh. Antonio looked at me like I was crazy, but I just gave him a side glance and a wink.

"It looks like our little Gilbert has fallen in love with a little "Birdie"."

"Wait, who's Birdie?", Antonio asked tilting his head to the side.

"Duh, the guy Gilbert was just talking about! You know, he said he looks like...", I trailed off. I had forgotten the description that Gilbert had given me.

"I can't remember what his description was.", I dead panned with a conflicted look on my face.

* * *

><p>Matthew POV<p>

The bell signaling lunch rang and I smiled the first genuine smile this day.

Lunch time was the only time I could really relax and get away from everyone because I had a secret hiding place on campus. Behind the school was a forest were I would go to and sit underneath the shade of my favorite maple tree and relax. Sometimes, I would even do sketches of the trees or wildlife out there to get my mind off of things. I never really needed to worry about lunch either because there were apple trees out in the forest.

I stood up out of my chair and another wave of dizziness rushed over me again. It has happened all day because of my fever and a broken rib was not helping my matters very much.

I walked down the halls and out of the heavy doors and a gust of Autumn air blew through my hair and I smelt the crisp blow.

I soon arrived in the front of the orange and yellow forest that was painted with fall and a bit of frost. I started to walk on the gravel path that led to my hiding spot while listening to the loud crunching of rocks underneath my feet. The rustling of the leaves sounded like music to me and as I walked down the stunningly beautiful path, I felt like I was finally free from all my worries.

I came to a small opening and smiled as if I was returning to my true home. The maple tree was the only plant with red leaves and they shone in the sun like they were gems. A worn out bench sat below the tree looking like it would break if you even blew on it and a sketchbook and pencil laid against the trunk.

Another blast of wind came and a couple of ruby-red leaves flew down gracefully from the tree. One landed at my feet and I bent down to pick it up and I held it in-between my fingers and twirled it around taking in all its details with close precision. I let it go and it flew again to the ground a bit less gracefully this time.

I smiled and sat my bag down on the ancient bench and sat against the trunk of the tree. I picked up the old notebook and flipped through it to look at my past drawings.

Most of them weren't that well drawn, since lunch didn't last forever and I didn't have that much time to add extravagant details to them, but they were still decent. Sketches of birds, saplings, and other things decorated the pages and I smiled fondly at each memory that they held within.

I turned to a blank page and remembered the maple leaf that I picked up.

"I could draw that... It was very pretty." I crawled on the ground over to the dropped maple leaf and picked it up and sat back down. I placed the leaf delicately on my bent knee so that I could draw it from a certain angle.

My hand darted over the page with careful strokes making sure not to mess up as to not waste time erasing. I had just finished my leaf when I heard the bell in the distance meaning I had five minutes to get to my next class.

I stood up a little too quickly, getting the thousandth dizziness feeling that day and picked up my bag. I raced down the walkway, ignoring the intense pain where my broken rib was.

I got to the school doors, only to be swept along with the crowd and pushed around like a pinball. A kid "accidentally" elbowed me in the stomach and even though it wasn't my fault, I mumbled a small apology. It had always been a habit of mine to say sorry even if it wasn't even close to being my fault.

The guy looked around for whoever had said something to him, but didn't see anyone so he just shrugged it off.

I got pushed around more by the crowd and eventually got shoved into the mens bathroom. The door slammed behind me and I picked myself off the ground and brushed off my already dirty clothes. I cracked open the door to see that the mass of students had dwindles down to only a couple of people.

I walked into my science class, only for the smell of cigars to hit my nose like a bomb.

The teacher was Mr. Bonnefoy, my cousin Francis's older brother. His full name was Louis Bonnefoy and from what I've heard, he doesn't like Francis at all.

When he had first been hired by the school, he had brought in five packs of cigarettes and complaints started rolling in from the students and parents. The school had warned him many times about his smoking habit, but he ignored them and smoked them anyways. Eventually, everyone got used to it and the complaints stopped.

"Take your seats and do whatever the hell you want. You could say it's a free day, so leave me the hell alone." He took a long drag from his cigar and kicked his feet up on the desk. So far we haven't really learned anything in this class since all Mr. Bonnefoy did was tell us to do whatever we wanted, but no one was complaining.

I reached into my backpack and dug out the paper I had drawn in my class with Kiku.

The paper had become a little wrinkled, but it was still in good condition compared to the other stuff in my backpack. I began shading it in more, since I didn't have any inspiration to draw something else.

The smell of cigars in the air grew thicker and I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Everyone else had gotten used to the smell of cigarettes, but still hadn't; I had a really sensitive nose.

My other classmates were being extremely loud and I cringed when one of them let out a booming laugh right next to me.

"This class is so rowdy... Surely Mr. Bonnefoy will do something about now. He doesn't like it when we are too loud."

Right after I had thought that, Mr, Bonnefoy slammed his hands on his desk and screamed at us to shut the fuck up. All of us immediately went silent and he let out an irritated huff and plopped back down in his chair. I could've sworn that he looked at me and winked though... Whatever, probably just my eyes playing tricks on me.

The bell signaling the end of school rang and waved of kids crashed out of the classrooms trying to get out of the accursed building. I sat at my desk until everyone was gone and then I left. I didn't want to get pushed around in the crowd of kids again like I did during lunch. Especially since my fever seemed to be getting worse. I walked down the hallways gingerly since harsh moments made my rib hurt more than it already did.

"How am I even alive still?" I had always been pushed around by others and hurt almost constantly, a normal person would've been in the hospital at least by now.

There was one time when Alfred and I had lived in the orphanage and we decided to play toss with a rubber ball that we had found under my bed. The game wasn't exactly your normal game of toss though.

Afterwards, I had ended up with bruises decorating my chest and even one on my face. That was around the time Alfred still remembered and cared for me and he apologized a lot and forced me to eat painkillers for the pain.

I missed those day where Alfred and I were tighter to each other than super glue was to paper. We would always be there for each other and tried to make the other as happy as possible. Then of course, all of that crashed down when Sally and Jeremy came.

I still got hurt when they adopted us, but it wasn't because of Alfred's "clumsiness" anymore. But the thing that did change was Alfred and I's relationship with each other; our once tight bond loosened each day until it hung limp like a wet noodle.

I shook my head in an attempt to erase the negative thoughts in my mind and started walking in the direction of the art supply room.

"I just need to get some feelings off of my chest, that's all.", I reassured myself.

I pushed open the door and smelt the scent of paint that constantly filled the room. I threw my backpack into an empty corner of the room and pulled out a canvas, easel, and stool. I sat down at on the stool and held my head in my hands.

"Ugh... My head feels like it's about to explode..." My fingers combed through my hair and pulled at knots. I sighed and picked up a paintbrush from a flimsy plastic cup and held it up to the canvas. I brushed imaginary lines on the canvas and remembered my maple leaf drawing from earlier. I decided to just redraw that in more detail and color it in some more.

I picked up a pencil and sketched a drawing of the leave first and picked the paint brush back up and dipped it into a bottle of red-orange paint.

I was halfway done with my painting when an agonizing pain ripped through my skull and my hands flew up to my head. The paintbrush fell to the ground and I screamed in agony and squeezed my head. I heard the door opening and someone whom I didn't know rushed to my side. I lifted my head to see pale white skin, snow-like hair, and a pair of beautiful, ruby-red eyes.

That was the last thing I saw until the world faded to black.


	5. I Wasn't Staring At Him Creeper-like

Gilbert's POV

I walked through the hallways while kicking the ground in frustration. I had been looking for Birdie all day, but I hadn't seen him once since art class. I grumbled cuss words to myself and was about to exit through the school doors before I remembered the painting in the art supply room.

"I guess I'll go see if the Matthew guy is in there today.", I thought to myself. I turned around and headed to the art room imagining what the kid might look like

"I wonder if he's ugly? Probably not considering his art is so beautiful. Only someone gorgeous could make something like that."

I was about to walk into the art supply room until I heard someone moving around in there and pulled my hand away from the door handle. I peeked through the tiny window on the door and was surprised to see Birdie collecting art supplies.

"What's he doing here?", I asked myself as I practically stalked Birdie through the door. I watched (insert stalked) as he sat on a small stool and stroked a paintbrush with no paint on it over a blank canvas.

After a couple of minutes of watching him, I got a little tired of standing and leaned against the door. Birdie's eyes lit up with an idea and he went to go get a pencil. He sat back down in his stool and I squinted my eyes to see what he was drawing but he was covering it up with his body.

Birdie finally pulled away from the canvas to get a paintbrush and I was able to see an extremely detailed maple leaf. I finally put the puzzle pieces together and realized that Birdie's actual name was Matthew; the guy that painted the polar bear.

Matthew dipped his paintbrush in a bottle of red-orange paint and I watched intently without missing a single movement as he finished up the maple leaf. I was amazed at how graceful his hand was when he was painting like it was a tiny dancer gracefully leaping across the canvas dropping ribbons as it went along.

His posture and painting said that he was at peace, but his eyes told a different story altogether. They had pain swirling in them and he didn't look too well to be honest. He looked even worse than he did when I saw him in art class.

Suddenly, Matthew dropped his paintbrush and his hands flew up to his head. The paintbrush clattered on the ground and I could hear Matthew let out a cry of pain. He fell to the ground and curled up into the fetal position while squeezing his head like he wanted to crush it.

Knowing that something was very wrong, I burst through the door and rushed to his side. I lifted him to where his head laid in my lap and repeatedly told him that everything was going to be alright. He opened his clenched eyes and I took note at how out of focus they were.

Matthew closed his eyes and fainted. His breaths were ragged like he had been running a marathon and I put my hand on his forehead.

"He's burning up!" I reached into my backpack and pulled out my water bottle and my gym shirt. I folded my shirt into a tiny rectangle and poured half my water bottle all over it until it was completely drenched. I placed it on his forehead and checked that off a mental check list in my head.

"Now what am I supposed to do?", I thought as I stared at him not creeper-like. "Guess I should take him to my house since I have no clue where he lives." I was about to pick him up bridal style until I saw that something was making a weird looking bump in his hoodie. Thinking that maybe it was just a pencil or something, I tried pushing it out. It didn't come out and Matthew let out a yelp of pain and his face scrunched up with a frown.

"Could it be a… No, no, of course not… But could it?" I took Matthew off my lap and put him onto the ground and I grabbed the end of his hoodie.

I felt my face explode with a furious blush and mentally smacked myself for being embarrassed.

"Stop being so stupid Gilbert! It's not like anythings going to happen. You are just going to check and make sure that he doesn't have what you think he has." I gulped and lifted his shirt to see that my assumption was unfortunately correct and he had a broken rib sticking out. I felt nauseous and pulled the hoodie back over not wanting to see it any longer than I did.

After I had pulled myself together, I picked him up bridal style and held his as if he was made of glass. I adjusted my arms and the wet shirt on his forehead to make sure that he was comfortable. I picked up my backpack and pushed open the door with my back and started to head home.

OoOoOoO

I turned a corner that lead to my street and I gained a boost of energy when I saw my home in the distance. I looked down at Matthew in my arms to check how his fever was doing, but he looked worse than he did when we were at the school. My speed-walking sped up to a run after I saw his poor condition.

I slowed down to a jog and pulled out my house key once I was in my driveway and balanced Matthew's body in one arm like a baby while trying to unlock the door.

When I finally got the door unlocked, I screamed for my brother to come and help me. I set Birdie on the couch and I heard my brother's thunder-like steps from upstairs.

"What is it bruder?", He asked while rubbing his temples. He stiffened when he spotted Matthew lying on the couch and removed his hand from his temples to point at him asking who the heck he was.

"He's a... Friend. His name is Matthew. I don't know where he lives, so I just brought him here until he's wakes up."

"Why is he asleep in the first place?", he asked in an irritated tone.

"He had a really high fever and collapsed and I need your help bringing it down. Now go get the Tylenol!", I said pointing to the kitchen where the medical supplies were. Luddy rolled his eyes and I focused my attention back onto the poor birdie on my couch.

He looked a little more comfortable now that he was on a couch instead of bouncing up and down in my arms in the cold autumn air, but his face was scrunched up in pain. I took off my gym shirt from his forehead to check his temperature again and relaxed when there wasn't as much heat radiating off of him as before. I went to the kitchen to soak the shirt under some cold water when Luddy shoved some Tylenol into my hand.

"Here you go. I don't know this kid, but you have better take care of him. Mutter and Vater are on another business trip again so they won't be home for a couple of weeks." He started to walk away and I yelled a thank you.

I doused the shirt under the faucet and filled up a glass of water for him to down the Tylenol with and went back into the living room. I took out one of the capsules and forced it into Birdie's mouth along with the water forcing him to swallow it. Getting that out of the way, I placed the shirt on his forehead again and just sat there awkwardly not knowing what to do anymore.

After ten minutes of not staring at him like a freak, I decided to just take a nap until he woke up. I sat down next to him and took in his features for the thousandth time today (again, not creeper-like!).

I eventually drifted off to sleep and was woken up later by my bruder saying to either go to my bed and leave Matthew up here, or sleep up here and let Matthew sleep in my bed.

I decided since Birdie was already comfortable on the couch that I would go ahead and leave him there so I wouldn't disturb him. I went upstairs and flopped down onto my soft bed.

Once I got comfortable under the fluffy blankets and Gilbird nested in my hair, I realized that I was fully awake and didn't want to sleep just yet. I just decided to think about stuff until I eventually went to sleep and my thoughts (not surprisingly) drifted to Birdie.

"I wonder how he got that broken rib... It looked really bad when I lifted up his hoodie. And I swear I saw more bruises on his chest but I didn't get a good look to be sure. He also looked like he hasn't had a single piece of food in his life! And when he was late to art class, he walked right past the teacher and he didn't even notice! No one else noticed either. It's really fucking weird..."

I scrunched my eyebrows in thought and Gilbird pecked me in the head as if he was saying, "Chillax and get some rest.".

I smirked and ruffled up his feathers on his head in a playful manner. He let out an irritated chirp and fixed his feathers and pecked my harder in the head.

"Geez, Gilbird! I was messing around you stick in the mud!"

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry, but I didn't really know how to end this chapter... *awkward silence*<strong>

**Even though I'm posting this at 10:00 at night, Happy Thanksgiving my fellow Americans!**

**If you see anything wrong or like something about the chapter/story, don't be shy to leave a review in the box thingy below.**


	6. Memories

**Woohoo! Another chappie! Sorry about the poor excuse of a chapter the last one was but hey, every story has to have it's fillers, right?**

**Also, it's official that this is my most successful story that I have made so far and I can't describe my thanks in anything other than a high-pitched fangirl scream for having over forty followers! (=ヮ****=)೨**

**Hetalia does not belong to me and if it did there would be more Canadian history!**

* * *

><p>Hot.<p>

That was the first thing that I felt. I opened my eyes only to find myself enveloped in darkness. I couldn't feel my body in contact with anything; not even the ground. I blindly grabbed out to see if I could grab on to anything, but my arms only felt air.

"Why is it so hot in here? It's unbearable!", I thought as I attempted to cool myself down my fanning myself with my hand. After a while of floating around, I decided to start looking for some light or something recognizable.

I started to try to swim through the darkness, but that didn't work so I waved my limbs trying to come in contact with something. My foot hit something and I pulled myself closer to it with my toes. I got used to being on solid ground after a minute or so and I started walking straight forward in hopes of finding something.

I had walked for a long time and my legs were starting to hurt and I was close to just collapsing until I saw a small light in the distance. I suddenly wasn't tired anymore and straightened my slouched posture. I began to run toward the light and the closer I got, the faster I went. The small light grew bigger until all the darkness around me was replaced with white light. I slowed down and looked over my shoulder to see that the darkness was now in the distance instead.

"This place is really weird. But now I'm ten times hotter from running!" I started to walk some more to explore my new surroundings, but each step I took made my temperature go up another degree. I didn't realize since I was too focused on my temperature to realize it, but floating rectangles containing memories from my past started to appear around me.

The sound of a younger Alfred from one of my memories snapped me out of my worry and I finally noticed the "videos" of my life. The closest one to me showed a day when Alfred and I snuck out of the orphanage to explore. We had ended up in a park and met other kids and had a great time until the orphanage people found us and took us back.

A small smile creeped up to my face and I let out a small laugh that sounded more like a sigh. It was fun while it had lasted though.

More memories popped up and I entertained myself by looking at all the nice ones. I started to walk again to find more memories and I didn't even feel the heat anymore. I laughed and smiled more than I ever did in a long time when I saw my brother and I's adventures when we were younger. We were not that smart, but that's normal for a couple of toddlers.

The happy memories started to turn into less fond memories like when we got scolded or spankings, but then the horrible memories came. The laughter of children was slowly replaced with the sound of crying. I looked at the memory to my left and immediately turned away from it. It was too graphic.

The screams soon became taunting and the memories started to show my father beating me as a small child. Tear started to blur my vision as I was forced to hear my own screams from the past.

I started to walk faster wanting to get away from the horrid panels, but the more steps I took the louder the screams and crying grew. A large panel appeared in front of me forcing me to watch it and I watched in horror as one of the worst and best times of my life was being played in front of me.

OoOoOoO

Inside the memory

OoOoOoO

"Stop!", a small Alfred yelled at our father in a pleading voice. "Stop dad! Please!" Dad was pinning my small body against the wall from my neck and I was trying to pry his hand off, but he was simply too strong. Tears streamed like rivers down Alfred's face and mine too. Alfred started to try to get dad to stop by punching him in the legs with his small fists.

Our father was losing his patience with him and gave him a swift kick. He flew across the room and let out a loud yell as he impacted with the wall. I tried to cry out his name, but my father's grip around my neck was growing tighter and dark spots covered my vision.

My dad obviously thought that Alfred hadn't gotten enough punishment because he dropped me to the ground and started to walk towards Alfred with a look that screamed "You're dead." I gasped for air and used my swiftness to run to Alfred before our dad could reach him, protecting him from dad's attacks with my small arms.

"It's your brats faults that she's gone... Now I'm going to make you pay!" I braced myself for my father's impact while Alfred laid on the ground curled up while crying for help that would never come.

"Stop protecting your idiotic brother you little piece of shit!", my father yelled as he tried to kick me off of Alfred. I squeezed my eyes shut firmer and hugged Alfred tighter promising that I wouldn't let dad touch him.

"Fine! You little fucks are lucky for tonight. But tomorrow, I'm going to finish the job and avenge my beautiful wife that you killed." He spat on my face and I wrinkled my tiny nose in disgust. He picked up one of his beer bottles and chugged it all in one swig. He smashed in on the ground and stomped away. Once his heavy steps wasn't in our range of hearing, I weakened my grip on Alfred. I combed my hands through his hair and quietly sang a lullaby until the his tears stopped flowing down his face.

"Why does dad hate us Mattie? Why does he hurt you and I constantly?", he asked while sniffling. I shook my head and wiped away the last of his tears with the dirty sleeve of my shirt.

"He doesn't hate us. He just misses mommy and I do too. He just thinks that it's our fault that mommy died. He's delusional.", I said using my advanced vocabulary. Alfred drifted off to sleep. After all, he wasn't abused as much as I was. Dad usually went after me since I was the "weaker one" he so kindly said.

I was starting to nod off as well until a loud knock was heard. I looked down into my lap where Alfred was to make sure that he was still asleep and sighed when he still was. I gently lifted his head off my lap and on to the floor to go answer the door since it was well past midnight and dad certainly wasn't going to wake up anytime soon.

I stood on my toes to reach the doorknob since I was too small to reach it without doing so. I cracked open the door and peeked through to see two police officers. A tan police officer with straight, black hair crouched down to my eye level and gave me a kind smile.

"Hello there! My name's Anthony. Will you please let us in?", he asked politely. I nodded my head slowly and opened the front door enough so they could slip through. The tan man stepped in while the other guy stayed outside. I watched him as his eyes scanned the room and stiffened my shoulders when his gaze stopped on Alfred.

"They aren't going to hurt him are they? Did I make a mistake letting them in? They are police officers though."

"Is that your brother over there?", Anthony asked pointing at Alfred with that seemingly permanent smile on his face. I nodded and looked at my feet. "I'm going to ask you some questions and I want you to tell me the truth okay?"

"Y-Yes...", I stuttered.

Alright then." He walked over to the old couch in the room and pulled out a notebook and pencil. He patted the space by his side gesturing me to come and join him. I cautiously seated myself next him and grabbed Kumacheko from behind the pillows were he was hidden from dad.

"I'll start with an easy one, where are your parents now?", Anthony asked getting ready to write notes.

I squeezed Kuma closer to me. "Daddy's asleep in his room I think and mommy's... Mommy's d-dead." I tilted my head down where my bang covered my eyes and the police officer pulled my into an awkward, yet comforting hug.

"It's alright.", he said pulling away. He paused for a minute to take notes and then looked at me again. "Has your dad been treating you in any violent way lately?"

"He has kicked and hit me and sometimes even Alfred. He tried to choke me a couple of hours ago and I couldn't breathe." My hand creeped up to my neck and I rubbed the place where my dad choked me.

Anthony gave me a worried look. "Do you know why he does this?"

I buried my face into Kumajeno and took a deep breath of my mother's scent from when she gave it to me. "He thinks it's our fault that mommy died in a car wreck." Anthony's look became more worried and he stood up closing his notebook when he was done writing.

"I think that's enough to arrest this man." Anthony stepped out of the door calling for the other man and he stepped back in with a pair of shiny handcuffs gleaming in the light.

"Now, uh... What's your name?"

"Matthew."

"Alright Matthew, I want you to wake up your brother and go pack up your clothes and other things in your room. Don't come out until you're done, okay?" I nodded again and slipped off the couch. I shook Alfred awake and he muttered tired randomness.

"Come on Alfred. Anthony said to go pack up our stuff."

"Who's Anthony?"

"He's a good guy who came to help us."

"A hero?"

"Yes Alfred, a hero just for us."

Alfred was suddenly wide-awake and dragged me to our room to get our packing over with so Alfred could go see his "superhero". I grabbed an old suitcase underneath our bed and threw the few belongings that we had in there including clothes, Kuma, and hygiene items. Alfred and I started to zip it us when we heard yelling and banging from downstairs. Alfred and I threw worried looks at each other and finished what we were doing ignoring the yelling.

Alfred carried the suitcase downstairs since he was stronger than me so I got down the stairs quicker than him and gasped at the scene in front of me. The two police officers were struggling to restrain my drunk dad and he looked as if he was about to murder someone. Anthony eventually got the handcuffs on him and dad screamed louder and I could barely understand him.

"I will fucking come back for you, you hear me you little fucking piece of shit! I will murder you! First you take my wife, then you get rid of me?! I motherfucking raised you!", he screamed while stumbling over his words.

I stood there frozen at the bottom of the steps wishing I hadn't put Kuma in the suitcase. The officers told my father that anything that he says can and will be used against him, but he kept screaming that he would come back.

Alfred finally got down the stairs with the heavy suitcase and dropped it on the ground with a soft thump and froze when he saw dad too except he looked like he was going to pee in his pants.

The other police officer dragged dad out of the house and prevented him from attacking is. Anthony panted and turned around with the same smile stuck on his face. He bent down on to his knees and patted Alfred and I on the heads.

"Don't worry now. You won't have to worry about you dad hurting you anymore. You're going to go to a better place and maybe find a better family." He picked us up and lifted Alfred on to his shoulder and cradled me in his other arm.

"Where is dad going though?", Alfred asked while gripping tightly to Anthony's hair so he wouldn't fall off.

"He's going to a place where bad guys go."

"Really?! So, he's like the villain and you're the HERO?! Can I have your autograph?" Anthony just laughed and shook his head slightly.

"No, I'm sorry but I don't have a pen. Now let's go out to the car.", he said while stepping over a smashed beer bottle. We stepped into the backseat of the police car and Anthony slammed to door closed. I looked and saw that there were bars blocking me from the front seat giving me a feeling of entrapment.

I shrank into my seat and hear Anthony talking to the other policeman about dad. The trunk of the car slammed close and I shrank further into my seat.

"Matthew, will they really protect us from dad coming back?", Alfred asked quietly. I stayed silent not knowing the answer. Anthony stepped into the car and apologized for taking so long. The other police car with dad in it was behind us and I could hear dad's yelling still until the car made a turn in the other direction.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom and entrapment as a new part of my life started.

OoOoOoO

I stood still in front of the panel as it started from the beginning and started to reply itself. I lowered my head to where my bangs covered my eyes and a single tear ran down my face. The heat from before came back suddenly worse than before and I dropped to the ground.

I tried to stand back up, but my legs were too weak. Sweat beaded on my face and I started panting in uneven breaths. The yells from the memories steadily got louder and I covered my ears. The screams were making my head hurt and I ran my fingers through my hair pulling it tightly.

The screams became deafening and I think my ear were starting to bleed. I opened my closed eyes to see my fathers figure towering over me with one of his beer bottles in hand.

"I'll finally get rid of the vermin that should have never been born.", he said darkly as he raised the bottle over his head ready to strike. I scrabbled away, but the bottle still hit my head and shattered. The last thing I saw was my thin figure laying on the ground with broken glass and blood pooling around it staining my golden hair. My father let out a cackle and that was the last thing I saw before I woke up from the nightmare.

* * *

><p>I shot up right finding myself in a place that I didn't recognize. I looked around the room and saw a large TV and a wo squishy looking chairs beside the couch that I found myself on. I swung my legs over the edge of the couch and tried standing up to explore the house I was in more, but my legs gave out underneath me sending me crashing to the ground.<p>

After the o so graceful face-plant, I pulled myself back up to the couch and I was overwhelmed by the incredibly high fever that I had. I put the back of my hand up to my forehead and noticed a damp shirt on the couch.

"Someone probably put this on my forehead to cool me down. Chances are that it fell of when I was sleeping.", I thought to myself picking up the shirt. I sat on the couch gripping the shirt like a life support. I was still paranoid from the nightmare that I had and thought that at any moment my dad was going to pop out and kill me with a beer bottle to the head.

I heard someone's footsteps from upstairs and gripped the shirt tighter making drops of water drip out of it slowly from the pressure. I tried hiding myself with the couch and peeked over the top to see who it was coming down and to say the least, I was surprised.

A pale white boy with snowy hair descended from the stairs rubbing his ruby red eyes in fatigue. He let out a loud yawn and was only wearing boxers with yellow chicks on them making me blush. He gave off the impression of a loud, arrogant boy that everyone knew when you just mentioned his name. I can thank my senses from being a complete loner and wallflower. The guy looked to be around my age and I think his name was Gilbert from my art class. Not the best artist in my opinion but apparently good enough not to fail the class.

He went into the kitchen and I layer back down pretending to be asleep. I placed the wet shirt on my forehead and slowed my breathing down so he couldn't tell that I was awake. I heard him walk out of the kitchen and my eye twitched when he came over to the couch beside me.

He placed a new rag on my forehead and I had to hold back a happy sigh of the feeling of cold, fresh water on my skin. He still didn't move after doing it though and the tension was killing me. I wanted to peek through my eyelashes to see if he was still there, but restrained from doing so.

I stiffened though when I heard him let out an amused coo.

"I know that you're awake Birdie. Or do you prefer Matthew?"

* * *

><p><strong>HAHA! A true cliffhanger!<strong>

**This was a very interesting story to write because I wanted to show a bit of his past since I mentioned only a little bit of it in I think chapter 2. There were just so many ideas though! **

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter and please drop a review in the box thingy below!**

**Peace!**


	7. Forgotten

Gilbert POV:

I don't remember when I feel asleep, but I woke up in my bed with Gilbird snoozing on my head. I sat up groaning thus waking Gilbird up. He gave me a small peck on the head and flew off to sleep on a pillow. I stretched my arms behind my back and glanced out the window to see moonlight peeking in through the shades. I looked around my room to see the silhouettes of all my furniture. I blindly waved my arms in the darkness trying to find my bedside lamp and grinned when my hand hit its thin shade. I clicked it on and blinked rapidly while my eyes came used to the light.

I got up out of bed and went downstairs to go ahead and check up on Matthew. The stairs groaned with age when I walked on them and I tried to make my steps lighter so I wouldn't wake anyone up. I sighed when I reached the bottom of the steps and released the tension in my body that I hadn't realized was there.

I let out a yawn and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I walked into the kitchen and rummaged through the draws for a washcloth or towel to switch out with my gym shirt on Matthew's forehead. I found a grey washcloth buried underneath bottles of dish soap and held it under the faucet. I rinsed it out to where it wasn't dripping and walked back over to the couch.

I kneeled on the ground to switch out the shirt with the towel and noticed that Birdie's breathing sounded purposely slowed down for one reason. I ignored it and picked up the shirt when I noticed that it looked like it was being squeezed recently.

My suspicion was rising slowly and I took in other details that only my sharp eye could see. I could see his eyes moving under his eyelids and I realized that he was actually awake.

I wanted to facepalm myself for not realizing it since it was pretty obvious. The kid was a really bad actor.

I let out and amused coo and a smile that rivaled cheshire cat's on my face. "I know that you're awake Birdie. Or should I call you Matthew?" His body stiffened and my smile, if possible, grew wider than before. He slowly opened one of his eyelids and I my breath was again taken by the beauty of his eyes.

An awkward silence rang through the air begging to be broken by anything. I cleared my throat and stuck out my hand just to get rid of the awful quietude that hung in the air.

"You and I have never officially met before, but my name is Gilbert Beilschmidt. I'm in your art class and that's pretty much it. I already know who you are though.", I said with a wink that made him blush a light pink. Knowing that his cover had been blown, Matthew sat up and shook my hand tentatively.

"Matthew Williams...", he said in a voice barely louder than a whisper and I had to strain my ears to hear him properly.

I chuckled lightly. "I already said that I knew your name, but now I know your last name." Matthew shrank down and mumbled an almost not audible sorry.

"You didn't have to apologize! That's unawesome! Are you going to hold my hand forever by the way?", I asked looked down to our combined hands. Matthew's face turned a couple more shades of red and quickly pulled his hand away while mumbling another apology.

"Jeez, do you apologize for everything?", I asked jokingly. He mumbled yet again another apology and my eyebrow twitched in slight irritation.

"Cut that out. No more apologizing, okay? You have nothing to apologize for." It sounded like he was going to say sorry again, but stopped himself just on time. The awkward silence returned to my dismay and we sat there uncomfortably glancing from the ground to each other for what seemed like hours until he finally broke the ice.

"W-What am I-I d-doing here e-exactly?", he asked stumbling over his words while playing with the ends of his sleeves. He looked up while keeping his head down giving his a sad puppy dog look that could make the toughest man surrender in battle.

His adorable face made his sentence take longer than it should've to process through my brain and I snapped when it finally did. "Oh! I, uh, was walking past the art room when I glanced through the little window on the door and saw you lying there. I didn't know where you lived or anything so I just brought you back here.", I said in a pitch higher than my normal voice. I let out a nervous laugh and Matthew gave me a skeptical look.

"How do you know my name then?", he asked already knowing that I was lying. He crossed his arms and tried to give me a stern look that a scolding mother would give her child, but ultimately failed at it.

"I... Uh... Saw a paper in your backpack with your name on it?"

"Is that and answer, or a question?"

"Darn my inability to lie!", I mentally cursed. At first I thought that he had no backbone to him, but apparently I was proved wrong. He had at least a little bit of spunk in him.

"Well? Are you going to answer my question?"

Knowing that he could see right through me, I decided to come clean and told him the whole story of seeing his painting and seeing him art class. He gave me a weirded out look when I said I tried to find him in the school, but then again, who wouldn't be creeped out?

"S-So, you saw my painting?", he mumbled obviously not for me to hear, but I answered it anyways.

"Yea! It was really awesome! Like, almost my level of awesome!" He blushed from the praise and muttered quietly that it wasn't that good.

"No, seriously, they were awesome. Don't try and argue with me that they aren't." He looked up from his lap and nodded his head.

"Thank you. For everything. I probably would still be on the floor at school if it wasn't for you.", he said with a small smile. He finally lifted his head and it was illuminated by the moonlight from out side. It showed every curve and angle on his face making him look even more angelic.

"It was no problem. Anyone would do it."

He shook his head. "Not likely. Most wouldn't even see me there."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know why or how, but for some reason I'm invisible to others except you for some reason. Even my parents forget I'm in the room sometimes." He started playing with the ends of his sleeves again and I could see that he wasn't comfortable with this topic; so I decided to change it.

"Since I know that we are not going to sleep anytime soon, wanna play on my Xbox?"

OoOoOoO

I threw my controller on the ground for the sixth time and groaned in frustration.

"Gott verdammt, Birdie! How the fuck are you so good at this shit! Are you sure you have never played before!?", I whisper screamed at him trying to keep my voice down so I wouldn't wake up my brother.

We had picked Call of Duty because that was the only game that I could find and started to play that for any source of entertainment. Birdie was tense at first, but he started to warm up to me after we started conversing. Or at least after I went upstairs to put some clothes on instead of just walking around in my underwear.

He should've been more comfortable around my sexy awesomeness without a shirt... Or pants... Alright, I would've been uncomfortable too.

He laughed at me and my frustration went away almost immediately. His laugh was like the chirping of baby birds and soothed me. But then I remembered we were playing a shooting game and this was no time to be thinking about baby birdies (even though they are cute).

I picked back up my controller and started playing the game again when another person shot me not even thirty seconds later.

"Gott verdammt!", I screamed again, this time not bothering to lower my voice. I flung my hands up in the air and the controller went flying behind the couch. "Fuck this shit, I'm just going to watch you play instead."

"You're going to break that controller if you keep throwing it everywhere.", Matthew said not even looking away from the screen.

"Oh, please. These things are ancient and I have rage quits all the time. They aren't breaking anytime soon.", I said with amusement in my voice. I watched Birdie play the game and didn't notice that I was smiling the whole time. I laughed my ass off when he got killed by another player though. He has one of those adorable tempers that not many people have.

The sun started to rise and rays of sun shone through the window setting a glare on the TV screen. Matthew finally put down the controller and I saw that his cheeks were flushed and beads of sweat were on his forehead. He was like this when I found him in the art supply room...

"W-We should get ready for school... Do you have any extra clothes I could borro-" He was cut off when he tried to stand up off the couch and fell to the ground. I tried to give him a hand to help him up, but he raised his hand to me in protest saying that he could do it himself.

"I-I'm fine... My legs are just asleep.", He tried pushing himself onto his feet again to only fall to his knees again. Even that small task took the breath out of Matthew and his breathing came out ragged like he had been running for hours.

I quickly lifted him back onto the couch again and picked up the wet rag he had discarded when he was playing games. I lifted his hair being careful not to touch the weird curl he had and put the rag onto his head. He let out a small sigh of comfort but a fit of coughs cut it short. I got a glass of water from the kitchen and he took it gratefully and took long, greedy gulps.

"Judging by what happened, you are not coming to school no matter how much you want to.", I said in a strict tone to show that my mind wasn't going to change.

He looked up at me with the most heart-shattering puppy eyes. "No, I need to go! My parents will get mad at me if I don't..." He let out a gasp. "My parents! I didn't tell them I was over here! They're probably freaking out right now! I need to call them!"

I picked up the house phone from the kitchen and handed it to Matthew. He fumbled with it and quickly entered what I guessed was his parent's phone number. I heard the phone ring and he put the phone up to his ear while tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hello?", said a female voice from the phone.

"Hi mom, this is Matthew. I'm sorry about not coming home last night, but I... Uh... Went home with a friend and forgot to tell you.", he said waiting for yelling to come.

"Who is this? I don't know anyone named Matthew. I think you have the wrong number, good-bye!" There was a click and the dial tone rang. Matthew sat up on the couch frozen with his mouth agape and his eyes widened in shock. His hand started to shake and he slowly closed his mouth only to open it again. Tears started to form in his eyes and the phone dropped to the ground with a quiet thump. He held his hand in front of his face as if making sure they were still there and a tear escaped the corner of his eye.

"T-T-They f-forgot about me...", he said as the tear fell of his chin onto his lap. His whole body started to shake and more tears raced down his cheeks. He started mumbling incoherent words and started clutching his head and pulled his knees to his chest.

Not knowing what to do, I sat down on the couch and pulled him into a hug stroking my hands through his hair making him take his hands out of it. I don't know if it was just because of the need of comfort or something else, but he wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug and started sobbing into my chest.

"T-They forgot about me... T-They don't care about me... I shouldn't have been born. I shouldn't have been-" I cut him off by pulling him closer muffling his mouth with my shirt. A sob racked his body and he wet my shirt with his tears. I ran my hands through his hair again until the last of his shakes were gone and the sun was up all the way by that time.

The warmth of Matthew's forehead penetrated through my shirt and made me frown in concern. The rag had fallen off again when Matthew was fumbling with the phone trying to call his parents. I wanted to reach down to the ground where it dropped, but knew by the slower breathing from Birdie that he was asleep. I didn't want to disturb him, so I stayed perfectly still.

I heard my brother coming down the steps and turned to see him at the bottom of the staircase already dressed for school. I put my fingers to my mouth and pointed to Birdie. He nodded understanding to be quiet and mouthed the words 'why aren't you dressed?'

'I'm going to stay here with Birdie and take care of him. He is still really sick.' I mouthed back. He nodded his head again and picked up his bag near the door and waved good-bye. The door closed with a slam and I cursed the stupid door for being so old. Matthew stirred in his sleep and let out a groan.

His violet eyes snapped open and he sat up. His face was still pinkish from his fever and I frowned again.

"You should lay down Birdie. Your unawesome fever is high again and you need some more rest. And we are still not going to school, hear me?", I said in a motherly tone and was relieved when Matthew let out a giggle. At least he still had enough strength to laugh.

"Okay, mother.", he said with a smirk. I wet the rag again and placed it on his forehead, hopefully for the last time. He quickly dozed off and I sat on the couch beside his head and played with his hair with a gentle smile on my face.

****"He looks like an angel... Wait, what am I thinking?!"**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry I haven't updated in a couple of days, but I got distracted by Black Butler and other fanfics. <strong>

**The only time Hetalia will belong to me is when tomatoes take over the world and their king is a potato. In other words, never.**

**Please review in the box-thingy below and suggestions are always welcome! :3**


	8. Pancakes

The sunrise (set? I didn't know anymore...) shone in my face trying to force me to wake up telling me that I was in bed for way too long. I was already awake though, I was just too lazy to actually sit up. So I laid in my comfortable position listening to my heartbeat and smelling the scent of my pillow. I knew that my alarm clock was going to ring any second now, but like usual I waited half-awake for it instead of actually getting up. Gotta savor those last few minutes of sleep.

I waited and waited for the familiar, ear-piercing ring to go off in my room, but it never went off. Now knowing something was up, I slowly opened my eyes and expected to see Kumajiji laying on the ground from my tossing and turning and the glare of my alarm clock on my desk. Or maybe to see the multiple Canadian flags and hockey team posters plastered all over the walls of my room, or even the bland white ceiling above my head, but none of those were there.

I sat up immediately and looked around the strangely familiar room trying to figure out where I was. The carpet was a normal color of tannish brown that most houses had and the walls were a white color but seemed just the slightest bit dirty. I seemed to be laying on an old couch that squeaked whenever I moved and didn't have near enough stuffing in it. Two other decorative chairs were next to the ancient couch, but they seemed to be newer than the sofa. In front of the couch was a shiny elevation with not a speck of dust on it. It was almost as if it had just come out of its packaging.

I furrowed my eyebrows together, straining my memory as to how I got here. I jumped when I heard some sort of animalistic snort come from next to me and looked down to see someone was on the sofa next to me.

My mind clicked in recognition and my confused frown turned into a giddy smile.

I was at my new friend Gilbert's house. He had helped me when he had followed me to the art supply room and saw me collapse from my fever. Then he carried me back here to take care of me before I could go home.

Remembering my fever, I put the back of my hand to my forehead to check my temperature and sighed in relief when it felt cooler than it did earlier. I swung my feet onto the ground and pushed myself up and tested whether I could stand or not yet. My legs wobbled a bit, but other than they were fine. They were just asleep from laying down too much for hours on end. I plopped back down onto the couch and looked over at Gilbert.

His mouth was hanging open in a cartoonish way and his snores were almost as bad as Alfred's. His arms were draped over the top of the couch and his legs were bent in weird angles that looked uncomfortable to most people. But, we aren't talking about normal people here, we're talking about Gilbert. Overall he looked silly, but I was used to it since I used to sleep with my brother when I was still living wi-

I quickly stopped that thought as soon as I realized what I was about to think. I could feel my whole body start shaking just thinking about the evil man.

"Don't think of him anymore Matthew. He's gone now. He can't do anything to you now." I took deep breaths and kept reassuring myself that I was safe with my new family.

"They couldn't even remember who you were. Nobody loves you. You're trash and will never be loved by anybody.", A voice in my head drawled. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"It just... Slipped their minds. There are lots of people named Matthew in this world after all." Before the voice in my head could retort, my stomach let out a growl almost as loud as Gilbert's snores.

I gently touched my stomach trying to stop the growling and winced when I touched my rib. It was still a little swollen and I could still feel the bone protruding a bit still. It seemed to be moving itself back into place, but at this rate if I didn't do anything then it was going to heal incorrectly. I was about to try and push the bones back into place until my stomach let out another loud growl demanding to be fed.

Rolling my eyes, I got up and slowly walked to the kitchen to see if I could make my favorite food in the world, pancakes.

Gilbert POV:

I was dreaming about finding Matthew in the rainstorm again, except this time it didn't stop abruptly thanks to an unawesome, loud alarm clock.

I was still supporting his limp body as buckets of water poured onto our heads and backs. We kept glancing at each other awkwardly and glancing away in awkwardness. You could feel the tension in the air. I could see Matthew smile a tiny bit before he went limp and would have fell to the ground if I wasn't there supporting him.

The rain was getting thicker and each drop was starting to feel like a tiny sharp knife cutting my skin. Matthew was starting to slip out of my hands, so I picked him up bridal style and tried my best to protect him from the sharp raindrops with my chest and head.

I looked around quickly trying to find shelter and started running in the direction I think that I'd come from earlier. I saw the silhouette of something in the distance and picked up speed. As I got closer, I could see that I had actually found the sturdy maple tree that I was sitting under earlier in the dream with all the birds.

The sharp raindrops were starting to get into my eyes and it felt as if they were on fire. Or like when you get shampoo in them like I usually did in the shower. I adjusted my hold on Matthew and tried not to rub my eyes. I threw myself underneath the protection of the tree's protective branches and leaves and gasped in sweet relief as the sharp stabs of the rain disappeared.

I set Matthew down on the ground gently and then furiously scrubbed at my eyes trying to get the burning to go away. I wiped away all the water running down my face and picked Matthew up to set him against the trunk of the tree. Now that we weren't stuck in the middle of the downpour, I could clearly see his face and body, but I'd secretly prefer that I couldn't still.

He basically looked like he did in real life, except he seemed to have more scars and bruises covering his body and face. I was curious if it was the same way underneath his clothes, but I wasn't brave enough to actually check. How unawesome. A lot of the scars seemed to be cuts from something, but I couldn't recognize from what.

I tried brushing his hair away from his face to see more, but he started to stir from his slumber and I quickly retracted my hand from his face. His eyes fluttered open and I got another glimpse of his violet eyes before I could feel myself slowly slip into the word of the waking. Before I left though, I could see mouth something to me, but I had already woke up before he was finished.

OoOoOoO

He will come back for me.

OoOoOoO

I sat up on the couch flailing like I did the first time I had the dream and groaned in annoyance. I had wanted to at least hear what dream Matthew was going to say...

I was about to throw my pillow in frustration, but I realized that Birdie wasn't on the couch with me anymore. I quickly looked around the room trying to spot the familiar curly haired boy, but still couldn't find him. I was close to screaming out his name to see if he would respond until I heard the banging of pots come from the kitchen.

Knowing that is was Matthew, I rushed to the kitchen to make sure that he was okay. After all, he was still sick and injured.

I peeked into the kitchen to see if it was him and sighed in relief when I saw him. He was standing over the sink washing a couple of dishes while humming a song and swaying his hips. He had a small smile on his face and looked like he was in total bliss. He turned off the sink and he wiped off his hands on a dish towel still humming the catchy tune.

Matthew turned around and yelped surprise. His glasses fell to the ground and Matthew knelt down to blindly look for them. I chuckled to myself and picked them up for him.

"Here ya go.", I said handing him his glasses. Matthew gave me one of his heavenly smiles and picked himself up off the floor.

"T-Thank you…", he muttered while pushing up his glasses that were slowly falling down the bridge of his nose.

"No problem Birdie.", I grinned cheekily. "What are you doing in here?"

"O-Oh! I was j-just m-making some pancakes. I-I hope you d-don't mind…"

"I haven't had pancakes in forever! I think they used to be my favorite food, but I can't remember anymore." I scanned the kitchen looking for the golden breakfast cakes that I'd smelt earlier.

Easily finding the tall stack of pancakes on the counter, I quickly shoveled them on a plate and sat down at the table. I was just about to stuff the fluffy goodness down my throat when Matthew suddenly stole them away from me.

"You are not eating these without maple syrup.", he said with not a trace of laughter in his voice.

"Damn… He's kinda scary.", I thought to myself. Wait, no he wasn't! My awesomeness should not be scared of his cute little curl and… I resisted the strong urge to gush and just hug the life out of Birdie here and now.

Matthew poured almost half the bottle of syrup on top of my stack of pancakes and handed them back to me. "There! Now they are done and ready!", Birdie smiled in glee.

I looked down and my now drowning pancakes. "Will these still taste good with all that syrup?" I hesitantly took a bite of the sticky cakes and I swear my taste buds exploded.

The pancakes were gone within seconds.

I held out my plate to him and he chuckled. "Alright, fat-ass. I'll get you some more." He went back into the kitchen and came back out with two plates. One had a mountain on it and the other had a single, sad looking pancake.

"You're not going to eat anymore?", I managed to say through my mouthful of pancakes. Matthew just poked at his food with the occasional bite.

"O-Oh! I'm not really that hungry."

"Really? I'd be starving right about now since we spent most of the day sleeping. Wait, what time is it?"

"Three fifty in the afternoon.", Matthew mumbled.

"Ah, thank you. Sure you don't want more?", I pressed with a tinge of humor in my voice.

"No Gilbert, I don't want any more! Now eat your pancakes before I throw mine at you!", Birdie whisper-yelled, holding up his pancake with his fork.

OoOoOoO

No One's POV:

Matthew grabbed his backpack from behind the couch and slung it over his shoulder with a soft grunt.

"Where are you going?", Gilbert asked. He was hanging off the arm of the couch upside down trying to balance a pencil with his nose. Don't ask, he's been doing random stuff like this ever since the pancakes. Probably all the syrup he had.

"I have to head home. I don't think my house is too far from yours since we go to the same school." Matthew opened and stepped out of the door. "I really have to get back to my parents now"

"Even though they don't even remember who you are.", a dark voice in the back of Matthew's head taunted.

He turned around and started to walk off. "B-" Matthew choked on his own words when he felt Gilbert's hand on his shoulder.

"You sure you don't need a ride or anything? You're not sick still are you?" Gilbert brushed aside Matthew's hair, including his weird curl, and checked his temperature.

"Damn! You're burning up still! Sure you're fine walking to your house like that?"

Matthew smacked Gilbert's hand away in a panic. "N-No! I-I-I'm s-sure I don't n-need a ride!", he said, stuttering more than usual. The only reason that Matthew had been so hot was because Gilbert had touched his curl. People touching it was… Uncomfortable? No, he got pleasure from it. It's hard to explain.

"A-Anyways! Bye! See you tomorrow!" Matthew quickly walked out of the house before Gilbert could say anything. "O-Oh! And thank you!", He yelled, hoping Gilbert would be able to hear his thanks through the closed door.

Matthew darted up the street to see if he could recognize the area. Seemed sort of familiar since it was pretty close to the school. He'd better start walking soon before the sun started to go down.

"What time is it now?", Matthew asked himself under his breath. He pulled his old, hand-me-down flip phone only to realize it was dead.

"Crap."

OoOoOoO

**I'm a fucking asshole I know it. Not updating for half a year… I know it's short, but it'll have to do for now. I'm sorry about this guys. :( But in my defense, it's the end of the year which is stressful, so be glad I did update! You can still kill me though.**

**Reviews are really appreciated and keep me breathing. Hetalia belonging to me will always be a dream.**


	9. Tainted Bandages

**Little author's note here real quick: I've decided to write out the rest of the story in third person. The first couple of chapters I was trying to find out my writing style and I've figured it out for the most part. **

**Okay, now onto the chapter already.**

OoOoOoO

Matthew gripped his backpack's straps as tightly as he could as he approached closer and closer to his house. Dread filled the pits of his stomach and he felt like he would throw up any second. He was slightly shaking in fear of what was to come when he walked through that door.

"Would they remember me? Or call the cops, not knowing who I am? Or shoot me? No, that wouldn't happen. Too irrational."

Matthew wiped his feet off on the rug outside the door and grabbed the key hidden underneath a fake rock. He took a deep breath it, unlocked the door, and breathed out. Pushing the door open, he stepped in and braced himself for the screams of terror and anger from his family.

No such sounds met his ears.

Looking around, it seemed as if the house had been deserted. But you could feel the life inside of the house if that made any sense. His brother's backpack was right next to the door and despite the deafening silence, you could hear the slightest movement.

His parent's breathing, Alfred's heartbeat, if you were silent enough you could hear it. Most aren't able to though. Too busy getting on with their meaningless lives and accomplishing things that no one will remember in a month.

Matthew tried to get rid of the negative thoughts. He dropped his backpack next to Alfred's and climbed the stairs to hide out in his room. Alfred used to always call him a hermit for staying in his room all the time, but it gave him some peace away from the loud, distracting world outside that brainwashed us to think everything would be fine.

"Depressed? Don't worry, it'll go away. Suicidal? Stop being so simple-minded. Shy? Scared? Just shut up and talk to them.", Matthew thought bitterly to himself. People didn't understand this sort of stuff until they experience it.

Being a person with social anxiety, he understood how hard it was to strike up conversation. However, Alfred didn't understand a sliver of it, not like he tried though. He was always an outgoing person who wasn't in the slightest bit shy of anyone.

Slamming his door behind him, Matthew sat down onto his bed and grabbed Kumawhatever. He hugged the stuffed bear closely to his chest like the doll was a lifeline that was the only thing keeping him from jumping out the window from all the bullshit in the world.

Matthew smiled slightly. He thought it was funny how quiet he could be and stutter like crazy from someone talking to him, but on the inside he was a cursing, smart-ass kid who actually had a decent sense of humor. Too bad no one got close enough to learn about that side.

Matthew took a deep breath of Kuma's fur and squished him even tighter. Even if he was too young to remember his mother, it still gave him complete and utter peace to smell her scent. According to Alfred, who could remember her somehow, Matthew smelt a lot like her.

Like maple syrup and rain.

Tears threatened to spill over from the peaceful memories. Oh how he wished things could be that peaceful again.

"Everybody says actions are destined to happen from fate, right?", Matthew thought. "To hell with it then. Causing things like… My mother dying, my father's beatings, and now me being forgotten and mistakes for Alfred by everyone."

A single tear ran down Matthew's face before it quickly disappeared into Kuma's thick white fur.

Matthew put Kumajingi down on top of his alarm clock and stretched. And then immediately recoiled from the broken rib.

"Forgot about that. Must've gotten used to the pain by now."

Matthew took off his hoodie and hung it up on the back of the door. He grabbed an old, bloodstained shirt that had gotten ruined months ago from Carlos and glanced at himself in the mirror for a couple of seconds.

Scars ran all along his chest and the bruises on his sides were painful to look at. Not to mention the deep, dark purple one right where his broken rib accompanied by the lovely swelling going on. Just gorgeous, don't you think?

Standing in front of the mirror, Matthew rolled up the end of the shirt and bit down as hard as he possibly could. His hands hovered over his rib and he mentally and physically prepared himself for the excruciating pain that was undoubtedly going to happen.

He started counting down slowly. "One," He took a deep breath. "Two," He swore he was going to bite right through this shirt. "Three."

He pushed down on the rib and shrieked in pain. Dots danced and flew in front of his eyes, but he couldn't faint when he was already halfway done. Feeling the ribs scrape against each other, he shuddered in discomfort and finally felt it 'pop' back into place.

Sweat dotted his forehead and he wiped it off with the back of his arm. Looking back up to the mirror, Matthew swore he looked like a walking corpse. He was ten times paler than he usually and his hair was damp with sweat. His bags showed even with his glasses hiding them and you could count every single rib he had. Maybe he wasn't a corpse, maybe he was a skeleton instead.

Matthew sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He was sighing a lot lately. Maybe it was to get rid of stress… That would make a lot of sense actually. He grabbed the gauze roll that was in his nightstand and wrapped it around his ribs carefully. Tearing the end of the gauze off, he stuffed the roll back in his stand underneath a bunch of junk so no one would be able to see it.

He was so tired now. It took a lot of effort to simply walk a few steps. Returning back to his fluffy bed, he screamed into his pillow. Now that he thought about it, he probably didn't even need a pillow to scream in with him being so quiet.

His eyelids drooped and he struggled to stay awake. It wasn't that late at night and he'd already slept all day. Not to mention he really needed to force himself to eat something. It was definitely not healthy for him to be this skinny. He could probably swim around in his hoodie.

"Maybe even drown in it.", the voice said.

"Shut up.", Matthew muttered, now fully awake.

He felt really dirty with the layers of dirt and sweat coating him at this time, so he may as well take a shower to keep himself awake.

OoOoOoO

Matthew stepped out of the shower and tied a towel around his waist. All that shower did was make him even more drowsy again. Maybe even more than before. On the bright side though, he wasn't so filthy anymore.

Placing a towel over his head to soak up the excess water, Matthew walked back to his room and got into some sleep clothes. And by sleep clothes we mean some sweat pants and a t-shirt.

He heard the sound of pans clanking together downstairs and the scent of food. His mother must've decided to make some food tonight. It's been awhile since she's decided to do that. Matthew's mouth watered and he descended down the steps to see if his mom was done cooking so he could maybe sneak some food.

He peeked into the kitchen to see his adoptive mom, who didn't resemble Matthew in anyway, setting the table while the food cooled in the pot. Knowing he didn't have much time to grab food while his mom's back was turned, he quickly grabbed a styrofoam bowl from a draw and plopped whatever food his mom had cooked into it.

He grabbed a fork out of the silverware drawer and was just about to book it back up stairs when he heard his mother say something.

"She's seen me. She's going to freak and kick me out I just know it. Then I'll be homeless and finally die from starvation."

"Alfred? Are you not going to eat with us tonight?"

"Wait! That's right, I can pretend to be Alfred since she can't see my face."

"I-I'm going to eat upstairs t-tonight mom.", Matthew choked out nervously, cursing his stuttering for the millionth time.

He could feel his mother's annoyance without even looking back at her. "Fine then. I just want you to be down here tomorrow eating with your father and I, alright?"

Matthew nodded and quickly speed walked out of the kitchen. He slammed his bedroom door behind him and laughed silently to himself. Not to offend his adoptive family or anything, but they were really stupid at times.

Looking down into his bowl he saw that his mom had made pasta. It smelt pretty good, but it was average I guess. Matthew took a bite and his stomach had a fit. It was unused to eating heavy foods like this.

Matthew knew he couldn't go on eating nothing everyday, so he choked down eat and every noodle until it was finally done. He felt as like he was going to vomit up all that food any second. He hadn't even grabbed that much from the pot in the first place.

Matthew decided to sleep off the discomfort and climbed into his bed. He pressed a pillow to his stomach and pressed it as hard as he could to his stomach. His rib hurt from it, but it wasn't as bad as before and he could handle the pain.

The sun finally went all the way down and his room was cloaked in the darkness. It felt peaceful. There were no prying eyes to look at him and no one to judge him. If his stomach would stop hurting he could enjoy it to its fullest, but that wasn't going to happen.

Matthew slowly nodded off to sleep. His grip loosened on his pillow and it fell onto the floor. He snored softly and unaware that someone was watching him through the door.

Peeking through the crack of the door stood Alfred. Once Alfred knew that Matthew was asleep, he slowly pushed open the door all the way and tried to tiptoe over to Matthew. He knelt down by the side of his brother's bed and gazed lovingly at Matthew's peaceful sleeping expression.

"So where exactly were you, huh bro?", Alfred asked quietly. "Had me worried to death when you didn't show up to school. You think I don't notice, but I do." He held Matthew's hand and pressed it against his forehead.

"Please don't scare me like that again. Please dude." Alfred gently kissed the back of his brother's hand and stood back up. "Remember, you can always come to me. You know, your hero." Alfred turned to leave when he heard Matthew mutter something. He couldn't quite hear it, but Alfred was pretty sure he'd muttered 'thanks'.

Alfred smiled and muttered 'you're welcome' before walking out the door.

OoOoOoO

Matthew grabbed his backpack and dashed out the door. He was running late for school and no one had bothered to wake him up. Not that he was surprised, but come on.

Slamming the door behind him, not even bothering to lock it as payback, he ran as quickly as he could towards his school. His bandaged rubbed against his skin uncomfortably and his rib cage screamed in pain, but he could worry about that later. He'd dealt with much worse than this. He threw open the school doors and speed-walked to his art class.

Matthew pushed open the heavy wooden door and apologized quietly for being late. The teacher, as usual, didn't notice him and went on with his lecture. Matthew honestly wondered sometimes if this was all some practical joke. After all, it was impossible for someone to actually be invisible right? Everyone was most likely coming together to mess with him.

No, he knew this wasn't true. But it felt nice to tell himself that.

He'd been neglected, ignored, and discarded like this all the time ever since he was little. There was no way people could keep it up for this long. And anyways, what reason would they have for doing so?

Matthew quietly took his seat and pulled out his sketchbook to doodle. He'd just gotten started on drawing an array of detailed feathers when a voice from behind him made him jump.

"Hey! Hey Birdie!", Gilbert whispered, trying to get Matthew's attention. Matthew flinched and the pencil skid across the paper like a claw mark. The feathers were officially ruined.

"Gilbert! Stop talking to yourself and pay attention!", the teacher yelled. Gilbert scoffed and grumbled unhappily under his breath.

Matthew sighed and tore off a blank piece of paper.

"What do you need?", Matthew wrote on the paper in his loopy, delicate handwriting. He handed it over his shoulder to Gilbert and tried to draw another picture while he waited for his reply. Matthew heard Gilbert's pencil scratch across the paper in a harsh fashion and smiled. His handwriting was probably terrible judging from the sounds.

"God that was a really weird and creepy observation…"

He felt the paper hitting the side of his arm and took it.

"Oh. Well, I didn't really have anything to say. That was pretty unawesome. But you're here so I tried to say hi. You know, being the awesome person I am. Is your fever any better?" Matthew grinned. He was right about Gilbert's handwriting. It was terrible! Looked more like he had just picked up a pencil for the first time.

Quickly writing a response back, he handed it back with the smile still present on his face. The two friends continued to pass notes to each other until the entire page was covered in writing, crappy drawings, and gorgeous drawing from front to back.

Matthew was going to pull out another paper, but the bell rang and he had to pack up his sketchbook and notebook before he was late to his next class. He shoved his books back into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

Matthew was adjusting his hoodie when he was stopped by Gilbert just before he was about to leave the room.

"Hey, do you want to go to the art supply room to hang o- I mean, work on homework?"

Matthew nodded. "Sure. I'll see you then?"

Gilbert grinned. "Yep."

They both walked out of the classroom and parted different ways. "See you later Birdie!", Gilbert called out.

Matthew practically skipped down the hallways. Gilbert seemed to know the ways to make him smile. His once irritated, sour mood was now replaced with happiness and giddiness. He turned around the corner and was knocked back by some strong, wall-like force.

Matthew was knocked onto the ground and squeaked in surprise. He looked up to see what he had run into and was paralyzed in fear. Towering over him was Carlos. His hair was pulled out of his face with a hair tie like usual and he had his typical Cuban flag hoodie with green pants on.

He didn't seem to notice Matthew on the ground and casually walked by like he hadn't just knocked a man to the ground. Matthew stayed as still as he possibly could. The happy, bubbly feeling before was doused like a fire. He thought that maybe if he didn't make any sudden movements, Carlos wouldn't be able to see him.

Matthew stared at the ground, refusing to look up at his bully in fear that they might make eye contact. He clenched his fists until they were about to bleed and bit down on his lip. Carlos finally walked out of the door and Matthew leaned on his backpack in relief.

His heart beat was erratic and his chest burned. "That was too close…", Matthew thought to himself. He picked himself off the ground, adjusted his backpack, and headed off to his next class while still in shock.

"Oh how I wish Gilbert was here to cheer me up…"

OoOoOoO

Gilbert tapped the pencil lightly on the table. He was extremely irritated right now.

All he wanted to do was hang out with Birdie! Was that too much to ask for?!

Growling in irritation, he placed the eraser in-between his teeth and bit down lightly on it. Not enough to break it, just to get a little bit of his frustration out.

"Why do I want to be around Birdie so much anyways? We didn't even meet that long ago."

Ugh. His irritation was only growing. It didn't matter that they'd only met a while ago, they were still friends and who didn't want to be around their friends, right?

He just wanted out of this boring ass class! Was the clock ticking slower or something?! He swore the whole world was working against him today. The teacher's monotone drawling was boring him to tears and the class hadn't even started thirty minutes ago.

Gilbert struggled to stay awake, for Fritz's sake.

"Get any more detentions and Gilbird goes away for the rest of the year!", Gilbert mocked in his head. He always knew that taking away Gilbird was an empty threat since the two were practically inseparable. In fact, Gilbert was actually sitting inside of his backpack right now. Probably sleeping on top of his gym clothes.

"You better not shit all over my stuff…", Gilbert muttered.

"What was that Gilbert?", the teacher called out from the front of the room.

"I didn't say anything Miss.", Gilbert lied. The teacher had a suspecting look in her eyes, but turned back around to continue her lesson.

Gilbert looked back at the clock and grinned when he saw fifteen more minutes had passed from just thinking to himself. And trying not to bang his head on the table to keep himself awake.

**"Only a couple more minutes Gilbert"**

OoOoOoO

***sigh* The time is upon us my friends. I will soon have to take a very long break from writing. But don't worry, I'll make sure to come back earlier this time instead of being a douche. You know, me abandoning you peeps for half a year. And sorry for the short chapters all this time. I'm not lying when I say I love everyone of you, even if you haven't reviewed, followed, etc. Hell, I get happy over a single ****view.**

**Hetalia will belong to me when I learn how to cook (in other words, not ever going to happen). Please leave a review in the little box-thingy down there and I will see you later. : )**


	10. Handprints

OoOoOoO

The lunchroom was packed with people. The noise almost deafening, people so squished they touched, and the nasty food covered the floor and tables from people who didn't know where the hell their mouths were. There was even food stuck from centuries ago on the ceiling from students flicking it up there when they were bored. This was truly the nastiest place in the school aside from the bathrooms.

Matthew could care less about the lunchroom though. It's not like he was ever in there. He always went to his little maple tree behind the school. Which is where he was heading right now.

The maple tree had lost more leaves now. It was practically bare now. Only a couple of leaves hung onto the highest branches; refusing to touch the frosty ground. Speaking of the ground, you couldn't see it anymore. The leaves covered the entire ground like a bright carpet. Not a single blade of grass or speck of dirt was visible amongst the field of orange and reds. The bench made the little clearing look like an actual room in a house.

_"This is my house really,"_ Matthew thought to himself with a grimace.

He took a seat in the middle of the leafy carpet and pulled his notebook out of his backpack. After getting it out thought he decided to put it away. Today would be a good day just to relax and think. After putting his drawing materials back into his bag, Matthew laid down on his back and groaned. He stared up at the dark sky while picking up leaves, crunching them and leaving the residue on his chest. A cool breeze passed making Matthew shiver and pull his hoodie closer to him.

_"I can't wait for school to end,"_ Matthew chuckled quietly to himself. _"But it is really fun to be with Gilbert. Maybe it's just because he's the only person who can see me all the time, no matter the circumstances. Or because he helped me when I was sick on the floor with a broken rib." _Matthew rolled his eyes and chuckled.

Speaking of the rib, after Matthew had put it back into place it stopped hurting as much as before. It still hurt to run, but now simple tasks like walking or breathing didn't cause him to die of suffocation. As much.

_"But I can't let Gil learn about my rib. And __especially how I got it along with my other injuries. Carlos can't find out I'm friends with Gilbert either or else he might go after him." _Matthew rubbed his temples. _"I've got a ton of things I need to keep hidden from Gilbert. For both his safety and my own."_

Matthew cleared his mind and watched the stormy clouds roll by. _"Looks like it's going to rain soon. I'll have to go back in a little while."_ Matthew felt a drip of water land on his cheek. _"Or go back now."_

He quickly gathered up his few belongings and ran back to the building. He held his back up over his head to protect himself and his notebook. The dirt road was damp already and mud got all over his shoes and jean bottoms.

Matthew threw himself through the doors and gasped for air. A crack of thunder went off outside just as the doors had closed.

_"Close call"_

He looked like crap when he got inside though. His hair was plastered to his scalp and neck and his jeans were caked in mud all the way up to below his knee. Curse the bipolar weather here. Matthew looked around for a clock, but didn't see one anywhere in the hallway. Instead of stressing over it, he shrugged and decided to go to his next class early instead of standing around.

* * *

><p>Gilbert sprinted through the deserted hallways quickly. School had ended thirty minutes ago and he was late for meeting up with Matthew. Damn his teacher for keeping him in the classroom for so long. Birdie was probably already gone by now thinking that he'd bailed on him.<p>

He strained his muscles to go faster.

After what seemed like century, Gil approached the storage room and opened the door.

And there sat Matthew in the center. He was staring at his polar bear drawing. Apparently he hadn't noticed Gilbert come in yet, so Gilbert stayed still and observed. Matthew picked up the painting and walked over to only wall not covered with shelves of paint and brushed it as if looking for something. His fingernails caught onto something and Birdie pulled on it hard. A hidden door swung open and inside laid multiple paintings stacked on top of each other.

Impressive.

"Woah! How many paintings do you have? Are they all in here?", Gilbert asked loudly, breaking the peaceful silence in the room. Matthew jumped a foot in the air and screeched.

Full blown _screech_.

"Jesus, Birdie. You trying to crack the windows? It's just me."

"Gilbert...", he sighed "You scared the maple out of me."

"Excuse me, did you just substitute maple for a curse word?"

"..."

Gilbert laughed. "Never mind. But are those really all your paintings?"

"Yeah. I painted all of them.", Matthew said with a hint of smug in his voice. This was new.

Gilbert gasped like a little girl at a One Direction concert. "Can I look at them? Please?", he begged. He had a weird obsession of looking at others people's art. Probably cause his own sucked ass and his mind thought that if he saw more good art, his own would improve. Made no sense to anybody but Gilly here.

Matthew nodded shyly and pulled out the smallest painting there was in there. He held it to his chest for a minute and cleared his throat.

"This was the first painting I made when I came to this school, so it's not very good."

Gilbert rolled his eyes and sarcastically said, "Yeah, it'll suck. Don't worry, I'm sure it's awesome."

Matthew handed the tiny painting over to Gilbert and he had to choke back a squeal from it's cuteness. It was a picture of a tiny yellow bird snuggling with a little white bird in a nest. You could see that it was made by a beginner, but Gilbert still loved it.

"Woah," Gilbert said quietly. "You know, you are a really good artist. I hate admitting it, but I'm jealous."

Matthew shoved his hands into his pockets and giggled. "I'm really not."

Gilbert frowned. "You should give yourself more credit."

An awkward silence filled the air. Matthew stared at the ground and Gilbert looked out the window. He placed the painting back in the weird little trap door thing and looked at the others with curiosity. Matthew noticed and forced a smile.

"You can go through them you know. I don't mind." But his stomach twisted when he thought about Gilbert looking at his paintings. _"What if he doesn't like the rest of them? Will he hate me for it? Will he get freaked out by his depressing ones? There were quiet a few that depicted cutting, suicide, or even rape... What if he's homophobic? I do have some same sex drawings in there."_

Matthew hid all these negative thoughts behind a mask. It was sad that he couldn't see how Gilbert was enjoying the art, not degrading it.

The two stayed like that for hours until they realized the sun was about to go down.

"Oh no," Matthew said, grabbing his bag off the floor. "I'm sorry Gilbert, but I have to go now. My brother probably started heading back home and I don't want to be left behind again." Matthew left the room quickly and called out goodbye before the door slammed shut behind him.

Gilbert was still sitting in front of Matthew's stash. These paintings really were beautiful... But he had still only scratched the surface of Matthew's art. You'd be surprised with how much stuff you could fit into this little hiding spot. Inside it had piles notebooks, mountains of paper and multiple stacks of used canvases. Each had a unique picture on them. Gilbert started to wonder where Matthew got all of these ideas from.

Some of them Gilbert frowned at though. Although beautiful, some were scary.

There was one of them that refused to get out of Gilbert's mind. It was a painting of a pale man underneath what seemed to be a waterfall of blood. His hair color was indistinguishable because of all the blood in it. He was hunched over from the blood pummeling onto his back, so you were unable to see his face. The man's palms were faced up, catching the blood in the palms before it trickled out of them in streams. Since the man wasn't clothed, you could see scars and cuts all over his torso and arms. Blood trickled out of some wounds while others seemed to be turning into scars.

Gilbert had spent a while studying the picture before he had to put it down. It was making his stomach churn.

He wondered how much he didn't know about Matthew.

* * *

><p>Three months passed and Gilbert's and Matthew's friendship only grew. They became inseparable from each other when they were at school. Art class especially. And when they weren't at school, they would be calling each other or texting nonstop. Well, Gilbert was doing most of the talking usually. Matthew usually just nodded and added in a few comments. Matthew hadn't ever had a friend who'd understood he didn't like to talk much. Gilbert seemed to be a really open-minded person.<p>

The school started to notice that they were always together though, and that made Matthew worried. Carlos hadn't been bothering Matthew as much lately. Last time he'd gotten hurt from him was a week ago. But he was starting to notice his relationship with Gilbert. He needed to be more careful so Gilbert wouldn't be a part of his own little disaster.

Carlos wasn't the only thing Matthew had to worry about anymore. Ever since Gilbert and Matthew had started hanging out, rumors had started going around saying that they were together. Which usually wouldn't be a big deal, but what if Alfred thought that they were true? Matthew wouldn't be able to stop him due to the fact that he was family. So Gilbert would be on his own there.

Alfred was always over protective of Matthew at the wrong times. One time Matthew was actually close to making a friend until Alfred came and scared them away. Then he left to go be with his friends claiming he was the hero when really he was making Matthew stay alone.

So as a solution to "keep Gil safe", Matthew tried to slowly detach himself from Gilbert. He wasn't sure if Gilbert had noticed his efforts to get away from him, but Gilbert would never leave Matthew alone. The messages still overflowed his inbox, Gilbert called every hour, and once he'd even shown up to Matthew's doorstep proclaiming that they should hang out. Luckily there was nobody home at the time, but Matthew still tried to keep him out by making up excuses.

Gilbert still forced his way into the house in the end. It was actually a lot of fun being with him. Even if they had to scrape a couple of pancakes off the ceiling.

But one day, Matthew's fear had come true.

Matthew waited in front of the school patiently for Gilbert to come out. This is where they'd decided to meet up everyday after school so that they could walk home together. Matthew didn't like the idea at first because he was supposed to be avoiding Gil. But his fear of Carlos coming after Gilbert got weaker and weaker with every day that passed till eventually Matthew didn't care who saw them together.

He leaned up against the cold brick wall and hummed a song. Gilbert was taking longer than usual today. He was usually out before the first bus had left, but almost all the busses were gone now.

Twenty minutes later and still no signs of Gilbert.

Matthew's anxiety started eating away at his brain. He was starting to think that Gilbert finally got tired of him and forgot about his existence. Or maybe he hated Matthew. Matthew's knees wobbled and his head spun. He felt like throwing up.

Concerned and scared, Matthew decided to look inside for Gilbert. His footsteps echoed in the halls and Matthew felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something felt wrong. Maybe it was because he'd gotten used to Gilbert constantly being by his side. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was happening to Gil.

Matthew heard yelling. It was close to him too. Worried, he speed up to see what had happened. Matthew turned the corner and saw Carlos and Gilbert screaming at each other. Both of them were out of breath and beaten halfway to hell, but still had energy left in them somehow. Gilbert suddenly coughed violently and doubled over. His body shook with each cough and Carlos saw an opening for him to strike.

The world slowed down as Carlos poised himself to punch Gilbert in the back of the head. A spot that would definitely leave a mark.

Matthew stood in his spot, frozen. Then during the next two seconds managed to throw himself in front of Gilbert. Carlos's eyes widened for a split second before glaring with a burning hatred. Matthew clamped his eyes shut and braced for what he knew was coming. He heard the punch collide with his cheek before he even felt it. Matthew was sent flying across the hall and slammed into the lockers.

There was a loud ringing in his ears. He faintly heard someone yelling down the hall and Gil's cry of anger. Someone had picked him up, but his glasses had fallen off and he couldn't see that well. But even without his glasses he could tell it was Gilbert.

"Birdie! Please don't go to sleep! I'll get you help, just stay awake."

Matthew felt something wet hit his cheek and realized Gilbert was crying. Matthew wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Gilbert's neck and comfort him. But his head was fuzzy. He could see black dots blocking his vision.

Gilbert watched in horror as Mattie slowly slipped away from him. Nose was gushing out of his nose from both the punch, and having his face smashed into the lockers. The wire glasses had snapped in half and were laying on the ground in a small puddle of blood. Matthew was paler than Gilbert was from blood loss. Matthew's eye lids drooped and Gilbert shook him.

Probably wasn't a good thing to do considering the condition Matthew was in, but Gilbert was panicking. A teacher had luckily come around and stopped Carlos from doing anymore damage, but she didn't seem to notice that a student was bleeding to death in his arms.

Gilbert clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. He was worthless like always. He wasn't ever enough. A tear rolled down his cheek and plopped down on Matthew's forehead.

Gilbert froze when he felt a soft, sort of wet hand touch his cheek.

"I'm okay Gilbert," Matthew said even quieter than usual. His voice was weak. He was starting to shake and was cold. "Don't worry about me."

And with that, Matthew went limp in Gilbert's arms with him screaming at him to stay awake. The teacher by now had noticed Gilbert and Matthew and screamed in horror at the sight of all the blood.

An ambulance showed up shortly afterwards and took Matthew away from Gilbert. He fought to be in the car with him, saying that he was a family member when it was obvious they weren't, but they told him no and drove off. Gilbert was forced to stay behind at school until he heard news of what happened.

He looked at his reflection to see that Matthew's hand had left a bloody handprint on his cheek. He touched it gently as if it was the last thing he had left of his Birdie.

"Ich liebe dich, mein Vögelchen."

* * *

><p><strong>Guess who is back? <strong>

**So I decided that I was going to update on my birthday as a present for my views as well as myself. So yay! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ME!**

**Please review in the boxy thing-a-ma-jig down there (it's super appreciated, trust me) and hopefully I will update soon.**


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